


Just This Once

by milk_not_malk



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Porn, Bad Decisions Were Made, Barebacking, Drunk Sex, Everyone Is Gay, Kuroo wears crocs, M/M, Many sidepairings mentioned, Oikawa is really insecure, Pro Volleyball Player Oikawa Tooru, Revenge Sex, Straight Iwaizumi, This started out just for fun but now im in too deep to stop, Volleyball Dorks in Love, iwaoi - Freeform, ok this is literally just porn now, send help
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2019-05-03 09:25:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 51,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14566011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milk_not_malk/pseuds/milk_not_malk
Summary: Iwaizumi just broke up with his girlfriend of three years, Oikawa is looking for a hot hookup. Meaningless sex with your best friend is okay, right?





	1. Best Friends With Benefits

"Alright, everyone, great job today," Oikawa sing-songed. He waved a hand at his sweaty face, trying to dry some of the moisture in the humid indoor gym.

"Do we need to put the nets down, captain?"

"Uh uhhh, not today," Oikawa chirped with a wiggle of his finger and a wink at the retreating back of Akaashi's sweat soaked black hair.

They had a hard practice - running dive lines and repetitive sprints and jumps. Well, that and the strength training session earlier that morning before classes as well. With sore muscles and aching joints and the occasional groan of reprieve, most people on the team were just relieved that they could finally go to sleep.

Oikawa watched proudly as his team cleaned up the stray balls and eventually made their way to the change room across the gym; each player had been scouted and picked from high school to play for their university, the top university for men's volleyball in all of Japan. He recognized a few from high school, but over the course of his three years in university, each and every player felt more and more like family. They were a team with immeasurable skill, and Oikawa tried his hardest to pull the team together, instead of working independently on the court.

Not that he had much difficulty with that, this level of play was much higher than high school, anyone who hadn't been weeded out were here because they were good, plain and simple.

He wiped his wet face on the front of his national team shirt, and flicked his hair out of his eyes.

"AKAASHI! Look at my abs!" Bokuto peeled off his wet shirt and flexed in front of the dark haired man with an idiotic smile on his face.

"Yes, very strong, Bokuto." Akaashi said dryly and continued on his way to the change rooms.

Bokuto bounced excitedly, "Hey, hey, Akaashi! No one's abs are better than mine, right?" and Oikawa thought he resembled more of a child instead of the powerful and highly respected player on their team. He smirked. Bokuto had been offered a spot at selection tryouts for the national team beside Oikawa, but was beat out by an older, more experienced guy. Still, having him on their own team was perfect, he was an incredibly smart player (despite his outward appearance) and Oikawa found him filling the void as the go-to hitter his best friend, Iwaizumi, had left when he stopped playing volleyball after high school.

Iwa and him were still very close, so close in fact that they were studying the same major and taking every class together. They'd even rented a cheap house together just off campus, their own little haven.

Oikawa watched as Bokuto's wide eyes lit up as he followed behind Akaashi like a well trained dog, and a mischievous glint fell briefly on his face as Oikawa decided to cause a little trouble. What could it hurt? He clicked his tongue and walked up behind them, throwing an arm over each of their shoulders and leaning in closely with a smile.

"Not as good as mine though, eh, Akaashi?" Oikawa teased, "You want another look? Or should I just send pics tonight." And Bokuto froze in shock with his mouth open wide, craning his neck to watch the other two in horror. To Oikawa's mild disappointment, the shorter setter ignored him completely with not so much as a glance in his direction. 

Akaashi shrugged his arm off, "Yes, you both have nice abs," Akaashi deadpanned with a long blink as though he were getting a headache, leaving them behind and Oikawa huffed a bit, at a loss.

Keeping a little bit of light drama fuming on their team was always fun, especially when he knew those two may or may not have gotten frisky in the locker room one too many times after practice. Oikawa loved getting a rise out of people, it was his most endearing quality - but for some reason he just could never crack Akaashi. The cold, distant, almost  _bored_ expression he wore was always so opposite of Oikawa he didn't know what to do with him. He reminded him of someone else - Iwaizumi - except Oikawa had  _always_ been able to get a reaction out of him.

"Akaashi, wait! Mine are better though, right! _Right?!"_ Bokuto chased after Akaashi with his hands flailing in the air above him, bounding in great large leaps across the gym floor. Oikawa watched them with interest, a knowing smirk resting on his face and a mild urgency rising in his chest to change before the locker room was uh... occupied.

He felt a hand grab his ass and Kuroo appeared beside him, "Can I see your abs,  _captain_?" He smiled devilishly.

Oikawa batted his hand away nonchalantly, "Hmmm maybe if you weren't such a  _tease_ , Kuroo," He winked at him, "Think of how your boyfriend would feel if he found pics of my chest on your phone. Naughty, naughty."

Kuroo smiled wickedly and rested a hand on his hip, "And what makes you think we wouldn't be into a threesome, hm?"

"You can't _handle_ this." Oikawa teased, batting his eyelashes and wiggling his ass shamelessly.

Kuroo put up a hand and took a step back in mock innocence, "Sorry, I'm taken." He blew a fake kiss at Oikawa, who pretended to catch it in his hands and hold it against his chest.

From behind them, Akaashi looked back with mild disgust - all of his teammates were children.

 

*

 

Oikawa walked back across campus with a scarf pulled up over his nose in the chilly night air and he hummed happily to himself.

He and his best friend rented a place just outside of the main campus, only a five minute walk from the South Gym, where his team practiced everyday. 

He felt exhausted - his muscles were sore, he jammed another finger, and his knee was killing him, causing him to limp lightly. A fresh set of red floor burns marked each of his knees, unsure of how he even got them, and they rubbed against the fabric of his black tight-fitted jeans, resulting in pain with every step. His head throbbed and he felt like he might throw out his back at any second. Not to mention the weird crick in his neck. And tomorrow, he got to do it all over again.

He breathed in the cold air and puffed it back out with a smile resting on his face. The dark sky above flickered with the dotting of stars.

Hard training days were his absolute favourite. The rush of pushing yourself past your limits and seeing the extent of what your mind and body could take were things Oikawa loved most about the sport. He was finishing up his degree, which meant this was most likely his last year playing with this team, before he moved full time to the national team as a second setter. He was still young, only twenty-one, and the current setter on the national team had been there for eight years now, planning to retire after the next season at twenty-nine. The national team coaches wanted Oikawa to learn as much as he could - playing at an international level - before he took the spot as first setter the following season. Oikawa was ready for the responsibility, he'd worked so hard to get to where he was now, and this was finally his chance to play at the level he had always dreamed of.

He stretched his arms high above his head, and walked down the dark street that lead to his apartment with a yawn wishing to get there faster so he could fall asleep in the comforts of his home.

It wasn't much, and it was pretty small. Although it _did_ have a cute white-picket fence. Something Oikawa constantly joked with Iwaizumi about them being like an old married couple. Inside the house there were two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen and living room - pretty much everything a starving university athlete needed. Especially when the only time he spent there was to sleep. The only downside was that the walls were paper thin, so Oikawa could hear every creak of the bed and every gasp and scream of Iwaizumi's girlfriend every other night. Fortunately that also meant Iwa could hear whenever Oikawa brought a guy home loud and clear, which always maintained an equal level of awkwardness between them the morning after.

Not that they cared one way or another, Iwaizumi and Oikawa had been glued at the hip since they met in middle school and somehow knew everything about each other, inside and out. Most people asked Oikawa things about Iwa instead of going to his girlfriend, and more than often recently, even his girlfriend, herself, came to ask Oikawa for advice.

He was the prince of his tiny, little castle, and he was fucking proud of it.

Oikawa skipped up their front steps cheerfully, knocking on the door loudly before swinging it open with a flourish.

"Yahoo! Honey, I'm home!" He sang into the house and closed the door behind him, locking it. He flipped off his shoes and ran to swan dive onto the couch in the living room, where he saw the dark form of Iwa sitting silently. Oikawa skidded to a halt, sneaking stealthily up behind the hunched back of his friend with his fingers outstretched and a devious grin pasted on his face, the element of surprise all but gone however forgotten by Oikawa, when suddenly, he paused. Something wasn't right, the room smelled strongly of alcohol and Iwa acted like he didn't even hear Oikawa had come home.

"Iwa?" Oikawa asked softly, he padded over to the couch to sit beside his best friend, "What's wrong, Iwa? Talk to me."

Iwaizumi was loosely holding a half empty two-six of clear vodka between his calloused fingers, his head clutched in his other hand and streaming tears fell silently to floor. Oikawa reached a hand slowly across his body, and gently took the vodka from him, setting it down on the table beside. He rested a hand on Iwaizumi's back and rubbed soft circles with his fingertips soothingly.

"Did something happen?" Oikawa prodded cautiously, knowing Iwaizumi had a tendency to use him as a punching bag when he was upset.

"Mirai broke up wi' me." Iwaizumi's voice cracked and fresh tears streamed down his face.

"Shhh, sh, I'm so sorry Iwa." He comforted, he reached back and grabbed a blanket that sat on the arm of the couch, covering them both within it, "Do you wanna talk about it?" He asked quietly after a few moments.

"She fuckin cheated on m' that fucking bitch." Iwaizumi rubbed at his red eyes and swayed back and forth in Oikawa's grip, "Sh' said they've been fucking for months now. Fuckin hate her y'know?" He hiccuped and started chuckling, "Wha a fucking  _whore._ " 

Oikawa sighed and leaned in closer, laying his head against the other boy's shoulder and wrapping his arms around him once again.

"It's okay, Iwa. She wasn't even that pretty anyway." He snarked with a pout and Iwaizumi looked down at him and worried his lip. Oikawa didn't think he'd ever seen his friend look this upset before. Well, maybe only a few times, like when they were kids and Iwaizumi's grandmother passed away, or maybe when they were knocked out of the qualifications for volleyball nationals back in high school. He hated when Iwa was sad, and like all the times before it physically pained him to watch his friend cry. He wanted to make things better.

Then suddenly, Oikawa had an awful idea. Awful, but good. Fuelling the fiery demon in his stomach, he reached over and fetched the vodka from the table, taking a long swig and brushed the hair out of his eyes with a large smile. Knowing fully well he was going to regret this in the morning. And yet, the strange magnetic need inside of him convinced him otherwise, at least in this moment.

 _Not enough alcohol_ , He decided and took another long swig, downing the disgustingly sharp liquid and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

He leaned up into Iwaizumi, who was still watching him, and lightly dragged his lips over his cheek. Whispering softly against the stubble. In his drunken state, Iwaizumi's mouth fell a little slack, his lids drooping tiredly.

"We could get back at her, if you'd like." Oikawa whispered against his skin, fluttering the lightest of kisses to his jawline.

Iwaizumi tilted his head down at him, their mouths moving closer together. Oikawa pressed a hesitant kiss to the corner of his lips, looking playfully up into dark eyes.

Then he leaned back and took another drink, cringing at the burn that ran down his throat. He set the bottle aside.

Oikawa lifted a long leg slowly and pulled himself carefully onto Iwaizumi's lap, straddling him. He reached up with one hand and held his face, a thumb pawing at Iwa's plump lips and brushing the wet tear stains away.

"Would you like that?" Oikawa asked. He wiggled his hips down on Iwaizumi's crotch forcefully and scooched forward to press his navel up against his best friend's, one hand trailed up and down the hard expanse of Iwaizumi's pecs in appreciation. Oikawa kissed him softly on his nose, then his cheeks, and dragged his tongue down the edge of his jawline towards his mouth.

Iwaizumi nodded slowly and Oikawa grinned against his lips.

"Just this once." Iwaizumi slurred.

He felt Iwaizumi press a warm hand to the small of his back and he arched forward and lifted himself up, dragging himself against Iwa's chest and kissed him softly on the lips. Iwaizumi's chin tilted upwards into Oikawa and licked into his mouth, holding his neck forcefully down. He bit his lip and sucked on it as Oikawa ran his hands down the sides of Iwa's muscular neck, feeling the thud of his pulse and the rippling of muscles underneath.

He grabbed the hem of his own sweatshirt, pulling it up over his head and tossing his scarf to the floor carelessly and felt Iwaizumi drunkenly fiddle with the buttons on his black jeans with increasing desperation. Oikawa giggled and bit his lip, taking Iwa's hands in his own and placing them on his taut stomach, distracting him while he unbuttoned his jeans and stood to slide out of them. Iwaizumi's hands adventured with curious desire, touching, rubbing, pinching the smooth skin until he began to feel more comfortable with Oikawa's body.

Oikawa leaned into Iwaizumi heavily, guiding one hand down to brush against his half-hard cock while he opened his mouth for another slow kiss. He felt Iwaizumi belatedly jump as his mind finally caught up with the sight of Oikawa's naked body before his eyes.

 _Oh, right_ , Oikawa thought with a pout, _Iwa's never fucked a guy before, huh._

Instead Oikawa smiled and let go of his hand, leaning in for a kiss and licking hungrily down the side of Iwaizumi's neck. He pushed the collar of his grey shirt to the side and sunk his teeth into Iwa's dark skin, savouring the gasp he heard from the other boy and moved his hands down to the buttons of his pants, undoing them and pulling out his softened length. He grinned up at Iwa and kneeled down between his legs, looking up at the other man with wide eyes. He could see Iwaizumi panting slightly as he slowly, tauntingly, began moving his hand up and down the soft shaft. He leaned forward, never looking away from Iwa's dark eyes, and sucked the tip into his mouth with a hollow  _pop_. The cock hardened slowly in his hands and Oikawa leaned forwards, opening his mouth wide, and swallowed his length in one fluid motion.

" _Fuck._ " Iwaizumi breathed out from above him and Oikawa bobbed his head slowly up and down the shaft. Feeling tears prick at his eyes as his friend hardened in the back of his throat. Inciting a small gasp from Oikawa that turned into a loud, wet gag as he inhaled sharply.

Oikawa hollowed his cheeks and sucked  _hard_ , watching Iwaizumi roll his eyes back into his head and he smirked internally. He pulled himself off and breathed in deeply, running his tongue down the underside of Iwaizumi's length and planting kisses on the way back up. Nipping, sucking, _anything_ to get a rise out of the man above him. He licked playfully at the head and lightly raked his teeth against the tip when he sucked it back into his mouth.

"Fuck." Iwaizumi gripped his soft brown locks in his hand roughly. "Fuckin go harder, Trashkawa." He said between gritted teeth.

But instead of complying, Oikawa moved back onto his hands and knees and turned around. Wiggling his ass in the air and arching his back, turning around to see the immediate arousal evident on his friend's face at his compromising position. Then he brought three fingers to his own mouth and blinked widely as they were tauntingly licked inside. Iwaizumi's eyes, half-lidded and dark, filled with carnal desire. The conflict brewing in his chest from before dissipating as Oikawa plunged a first finger into himself with a wicked smile.

A sharp inhale bloated his ribcage, and Oikawa tracked the way Iwaizumi's eyes scoured the length of his spine unabashedly with each panting breath. He wasn't really that tight and one finger didn't do much for him anymore, however the stir Oikawa felt in his gut as Iwaizumi sat helplessly behind him was enough to jump straight to three fingers. Pressing into himself. His jaw hanging slack with cusping fulfillment. It still wasn't enough with only his fingers to fill him, and so it came as relief when he saw Iwaizumi slip out of his pants and peel off his sweat slicked shirt, falling to his knees behind Oikawa with no amount of grace. His calloused fingertips tickled his slim hipbones, hesitating as he lined himself up.

He paused. His dark brows pinching harshly together in drunken confusion, and blatant frustration. And suddenly, Oikawa had a brief second where he wondered if this was  _wrong._ If perhaps sleeping with his  _straight best friend_ to get over an ex was a bad thing. It sparked strange feelings in Oikawa's chest. An almost kind of jealous rage that threatened to tear him limb from limb. It was terrifying, and something Oikawa pushed beneath the surface in fear.

Fuck now. Think later.

Evidently Iwaizumi had similar thoughts, because Oikawa's eyes rolled to the back of his skull as his breath was pushed out of him when Iwaizumi connected their bodies together. Even with Oikawa's abundance of sexual experience, Iwaizumi was more well-endowed than he'd immediately given him credit for and he was regretting not prepping himself more thoroughly before. It only made the pain worse when Iwaizumi started moving, fast and hard, driving with every ounce of strength in his muscle-bound body straight into Oikawa. 

He couldn't tell if Iwaizumi was just blindly reacting to the sensations, or if this had some deeper, emotional meaning behind it, but all Oikawa knew was his body was reaching its limits in terms of pain. The impact against his tailbone jarred his torso and shoulders forcefully forward, his elbows buckling to rest on his forearms as Iwaizumi pressed into him ever-relentless.

"Fuck, Iwa!" Oikawa cried out desperately and reached his arms up in front of him in an attempt to stretch out his position. The insane overload of lust and pain spread to his fingertips and toes like wildfire. Iwaizumi held his hips up in both large hands and tilted into him, leaning more of his weight against Oikawa's ass and hitting a new angle inside.

"Fu-... F-... Fuck-... Iwa." Oikawa panted with each thrust, " _Gentle_ -... gent-..."

He slowed down his pace, instead thrusting harder into the wet tight heat as he panted, and Oikawa's legs quivered and gave out underneath him.

" _Fuck- Fuck yes!_ Iwa, fuck me-... fuck me-...!" He screamed as Iwaizumi pounded harshly into his prostate. His eyes widened and he picked his hips off the floor. Pushing back into Iwaizumi and arching his back wantonly. His feet slid around out behind him, frantically trying to get more leverage. His sweaty palms slid against the floor as his shoulders hitched up his neck. Oikawa could feel himself drawing nearer and nearer to release, his breath getting light, his eyelids fluttering closed, his entire body clenching. He let out long moan and bit his lip harshly, grinding his ass and curling his fingers into fists. But before he could have what was about to be an excruciatingly fulfilling hands-free orgasm, Iwaizumi smiled sadistically and pushed Oikawa back to the floor with one hand, pulling out of him quickly. Oikawa cried out and looked back at him with shock, both from the sting of being emptied so suddenly as well as the disbelief of denying Oikawa from going over the edge.

He spoke incredulously. "What the fuck Iw-"

Iwaizumi held his throat and pulled him up for a dirty kiss, effectively shutting him up. It was rough and sloppy and everything Oikawa needed in that moment to fill the void of his slowly dissipating orgasm and extreme frustration. He flipped Oikawa onto his side, and looped a long, pale leg up over his shoulder, and he entered forcefully and immediately.

"Iwa,  _gently!"_ Oikawa screamed, reaching a flimsy hand down to touch Iwaizumi's hips as he sunk into him. Oikawa's eyes rolled back in his head again and his mouth fell open wide in a silent scream.

The room echoed with the wet slap of flesh on flesh as Iwaizumi pounded into Oikawa harder and harder, unrelenting. Oikawa lay sprawled out on the floor with an open mouth, desperately trying to fill his lungs with air and calm himself down as Iwaizumi rocked into him from behind. He ran a hand up his own body and pinched his pert nipples and moaned deeply with lust filled eyes and jerking his hand lazily on his own cock, almost desperate in his need for more pleasure. Iwaizumi grunted and leaned forward, his eyes trained on the panting mess that was Oikawa beneath him, bending Oikawa's flexible legs with him against his chest, and thrust his tongue into a sloppy kiss. Crudely and hungrily, he lapped into the open expanse of Oikawa's moaning (and virtually unresponsive) mouth.

He paused for a moment, spreading Oikawa's legs wider and shifting him so they were looking at each other with a smirk resting on his dark face. Oikawa opened his fluttering eyelids to gaze up in response. Finding himself unable to think of what that expression meant. Think of what was even going on. Unable to even just  _think_ in general. Iwaizumi pulled his length out nearly completely and achingly slow, waiting for the signs of objection from the other man.

"Don't pass out on me just yet." His gruff voice rumbled in his chest and then, with a sadistic smile twisting his normally handsome features, Iwaizumi thrust into him as hard as he could.

"F- _uCK!"_ Oikawa gasped and his wide eyes stared into black nothingness above him. He felt the other man move a hand from his hipbone and slide it up his ribcage to get a better hold, breaking him from his trance and he pulled Iwaizumi's mouth back onto his for a short, breathless kiss. He raked his nails down the muscular back of his best friend, leaving angry lines of red in their wake. Then, his spirit coming back, he aggressively gripped Iwaizumi's firm ass with both hands, guiding his hips more forcefully against his own. He felt a familiar tension building in his gut once again and he began shallowly panting ever quicker as he felt himself rise to his threshold.

"Iw- _hnng_... I-... I'm gonna-... cum-... slo-ow...  _ahh_ \- down!" Oikawa pleaded desperately and Iwaizumi smirked above him. Despite his frenzied need for release, this was just too good to end so soon, Oikawa was determined to let this last a little longer, as long as he could keep himself from coming. Iwa gripped him under his waist, circling his strong arms around Oikawa's thin torso and picked him off the floor to be seated in his lap.

"Was that too much for you, Trashkawa?" He slurred drunkenly against Oikawa's soft cheek and held his hips firmly in his hands, "Fuckin ride me." He prodded and lifted Oikawa's limp body up off his length, dropping it back down with a deep groan. Oikawa leaned his forehead against his shoulder, taking shallow breaths, trying not to come with every ounce of willpower left inside him.

This was all _too much_. This was  _Iwa_. This was his friend.

Oikawa was a slut, sure. However he wouldn't be the first to admit it no matter the truthfulness behind the words. But this felt  _wrong_. Not because it was  _Iwa_ in particular, but because he was enjoying it.  _Really_ fucking enjoying it. It was exhilarating, and it was terrifying.

He tapped Iwaizumi on the shoulder.

"Wai... wait." He whispered between sharp gasps and Iwaizumi stopped moving, still buried deep inside Oikawa, "Gimme a minute." He panted out.

Iwaizumi ran large hands up his sides soothingly, averting his eyes from the man in front of him with a mild frown. A pink tinge filled his cheekbones, and Oikawa couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol or the sobering sensation of being face to face with reality. Reality, in this case, being Oikawa himself. Naked and panting, his heated length bobbing dangerously between their heaving navels. One arm looped around Iwaizumi's neck, the other snaking down to brush Iwaizumi's fingers.

And instantly, as if a cord had been snapped, Iwaizumi jerked away (well, as far away as he could with his dick shoved up Oikawa's ass). His brows pinched tightly together. He ran a hand through his damp hair. He couldn't even look at Oikawa as he spoke with disgust.

"You gonna move or are we done here."

It hurt. To see that sort of disregard shown blatantly on Iwaizumi's face. No one had ever looked at him like that. Or, more specifically,  _hadn't_ looked at him like that. Regret seeped into his skin and guilt weighed down his shoulders, and yet Oikawa couldn't bring himself to stop. Not when his heart danced when Iwaizumi watched him with undeniable lust like he had before. The way his pupils dilated, and the way he seemed to be looking everywhere all at once. For some inexplainable reason, Oikawa felt validated by Iwaizumi's earlier reactions. He wanted to see it again and again. To see evidence for himself that someone wanted him, if only briefly.

And this expression now, where Iwaizumi looked almost disgusted with the realization that it was Oikawa sitting on him and not someone else sent a hole through his chest like a sniper's bullet. Hitting precisely the spot that made him hurt the most. So, reluctantly, Oikawa rose himself up by his knees, feeling Iwaizumi slide through him, then sank back down. Picking up a slowly increasing pace in tune to Iwaizumi's dissipating afflicted expression. His eyes began to blow wide again. His hands resumed their place on Oikawa's hips. And suddenly, Oikawa was able to enjoy it again. He quickened his pace, sinking himself down onto Iwaizumi harder and grinding and circling his hips with each movement. Placing a hand around Iwa's neck and running the other down the damp bumps of muscle along his chest in admiration. 

Soft gasps and moans accompanied every slap of skin on skin and Iwaizumi's lips trailed hot breath against his neck. Shivers racked up his spine and Oikawa rested his forehead back on Iwa's shoulder, feeling his gut tighten as he came closer and closer to release.

"I-... -I'm close... I'm close." He moaned and Iwaizumi answered with a deep growl.

His movements became slightly sporadic, desperate for the high of release and he clawed at Iwaizumi's shoulders, fucking himself relentlessly. He felt the telltale pressure of orgasm building up inside of him and he gasped shallowly for air. Iwaizumi groaned loudly in front of him and thrust his hips up to meet Oikawa's harshly, and Oikawa's vision went white around the edges as he came in ribbons of silky white cum that slid across their stomachs. He gasped raggedly as his body twitched and his insides sputtered around Iwaizumi. With his last bit of strength, he bit lightly on Iwaizumi's earlobe and whispered softly.

"You can use me."

With only a moment's hesitation, Iwaizumi flipped them over so Oikawa was on his back and held his legs wide, fucking into him with increasing vigour. Oikawa rag-dolled on the floor, his soft body rocked back and forth with Iwaizumi's brutal pace, barely feeling the roughness of his touch, the burn that encompassed the abused skin around his entrance. 

Iwaizumi's face scrunched up in concentration and his hands gripped Oikawa's pale thighs tightly, feeling himself about to come. He grunted loudly, reaching between his legs to take hold of his dick as he pulled the length out from Oikawa, when pale fingers wrapped around his wrist and he looked up to see Oikawa looking him dead in the eye.

"Come... -inside, Iwa." He breathed out between gasps. 

Iwaizumi's eyes widened and held Oikawa's hips firmly, blinded by lust and uncontrollable need to even _think_ , and burying himself deep inside the impossibly tight confines of Oikawa's ass. With a loud groan, Iwaizumi filled Oikawa to the brim, white cum seeping out around his cock and spilling dirtily to the floor when he removed himself from Oikawa. He collapsed on top of the lithe man below him and pressed his nose into Oikawa's neck. He heaved for air and shut his eyes, seeing spots of light blip around in the darkness and his shoulders shuddered lightly from the intense overload of pleasure coursing through his body, relishing in the feeling for as long as he could. His body weight was shifted, slipping from the warm heat of his friend to the coldness of the flooring underneath and he opened one eye to find Oikawa shakily pushing himself to his feet.

His knees knocked together and his fair thighs displayed a tiny marring of purple bruises from Iwaizumi's rough fingers. His toned stomach heaved back and forth frantically, still unable to control his breathing long after his orgasm, and he kicked lightly at his nearly unconscious friend at his feet, beaconing him to the couch.

Oikawa's legs shook underneath him and he half-fell onto the cushions, catching himself with one hand and one knee before he could, embarrassingly, fall face first. His eyes swam from the alcohol and he found himself blinking the sleep away as he grabbed the abandoned blanket from beside him, feeling Iwaizumi's heated body press up flush behind him. Iwaizumi wrapped a strong arm around his torso and took him the rest of the way down, laying behind him snuggly and pressing his knees against the smooth backs of Oikawa's.

They cuddled against each other tiredly, Oikawa wiggling back further against Iwaizumi's chest and pulled a blanket over them. Iwaizumi held him around his tapered waist and planted an open mouthed kiss to the back of his neck, sending a shiver up his spine.

"Thank you." Oikawa heard from behind him as he drifted off into a very deep, very content sleep.

He would say he'd regret this in the morning, but hopefully it wouldn't have to come to that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, kudos, or feedback are appreciated  
> This started out just for fun but let me know if you want it continued


	2. Hate Fuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support!

"You actually made it, we were beginning to think you wouldn't show."

Oikawa turned his long neck elegantly to address the stern voice of his coach. With an innocent smile and a tired rumble of laughter, he begrudgingly turned to the bench by the wall and shed himself of his grey sweatpants and teal hoodie.

"Just go get warmed up, we'll start without you for the time being." His coach sighed as Oikawa tugged his knee brace and lone kneepad from his bag. Then the coach was yelling to the rest of the team, starting them off on a drill with a basket of balls and three lines of players. 

Oikawa sat down gingerly, holding most of his bodyweight up on his hands before lowering gently onto the bench below. He winced, and an aching pain shot up his torso and down his legs. Obviously Iwaizumi was as violent in bed as he was in normal life.

"You had quite the night, I see."

He jumped at the the bored drawl of Akaashi and looked up from the tied laces of his court shoes. Akaashi had sharp eyes set under heavy lids, and while Bokuto found that attractive (and Oikawa wasn't so opposed himself) regardless he was a really smart setter, mostly due to his ability to see through the opposing team's strategies. This was something Oikawa wouldn't ever admit to him, you know, that he was clearly incredible at something. But unfortunately for Oikawa, Akaashi's gift played off the court as well, and he could always, _always,_ figure out the truth behind someone's words.

Oikawa smiled saccharine sweetly, deciding a direct lie wasn't in his best interest. "My, my, Akaashi, is that _jealousy_ I hear?" 

Akaashi sighed, rolling his eyes as he turned back to the court to rejoin the drill. 

Oikawa's warm up was pretty standard, despite being incredibly anxious to join in on the drill. His teammates were already sweating on the court. Bokuto was cockily yelling self praise after each good dig. Akaashi was quiet, calm and collected as he gracefully dove for a well-placed tip. And Kuroo was checking out someone's ass, getting a ball straight to the face and sending him backwards.

While he wanted to play, he knew his aching rear disagreed with him. And even though he was careful while warming his muscles up, in reality, his whole body was wrecked, head to toe.

When Oikawa woke up that morning, embraced in the strong arms of Iwaizumi as they spooned warmly together on the couch, he felt like he'd been run over by a train. There was pain in every step, his muscles cold and contracted, and he had bruises from the rough (and incredibly hot) sex the night before. The worst part about it all was his butt. He could barely sit, barely walk, he didn't even know why he had come to practice, knowing they'd be rolling around on the floor all morning. He blamed it on his sheer love for volleyball, wistfully pulling himself from the warmth of Iwaizumi's muscular chest and washboard abs, and slowly, _slowly_ , getting changed and ready for the day ahead.

However by the time Oikawa's first class began, he was feeling much better (in some places more than others). He could now walk with only a light limp and he could even sit down without wincing, which was a huge improvement from just a few hours ago. He pulled his blue scarf down a little, smiling at a group of girls that sat gawking as he walked into the room.

He adjusted his bag on his shoulder, prancing down the steps to the centre of the auditorium where he and Iwaizumi sat together everyday, right in the middle, where everyone could see the beauty that was Oikawa. Iwaizumi wasn't here yet, which probably meant he was still recovering from the wicked hangover he was sure to have, cleaning himself up after thoroughly puking his guts out. Oikawa smirked, feeling guilty he had just left his best friend to suffer while he went to practice, but at the same time Iwaizumi probably wouldn't have appreciated waking up to a naked man beside him. A naked  _Oikawa_ no less. His broken body didn't need more pummelling thank you very much.

Plopping down into his seat and crossing his long, black jean clad legs, Oikawa stretched his arms behind his head and cracked his back with a satisfying  _pop_. He wondered how much Iwaizumi even remembered from last night, I mean, he was pretty fucking wasted so probably not much. Oikawa might be in the clear here with this one, what Iwaizumi didn't know couldn't hurt him.

Their prof entered through a side door at the bottom of the auditorium and strode up to the projector-desk with purpose, pulling out a memory stick and loading a presentation in preparation for the lecture. The room filled up with people as more and more streamed through the doors and to their respective seats. Oikawa was always given a slight berth around his and Iwaizumi's seats, mostly because people thought sitting too close to someone so beautiful was bad for their concentration. Not to mention their eyesight.

Everywhere Oikawa went it was like a spotlight hung over his head. And he, being who he was, revelled in it. Oikawa loved attention. He loved having people dote on him. Or shyly avert their gaze when they talked to him. He even loved when people admitted they liked him. Or at parties when every person's goal was to try and get into his pants, guys and girls alike. Unfortunately for all the girls that always followed him through the halls like the plague, he was, and always had been, only interested in guys. He'd known since around middle school, when puberty began maturing people's bodies and unlike Iwaizumi, he found himself uninterested in boobs. Of course, being a young boy in a strange new world, he'd had his fair share of awkward kisses after school, and holding hands with whatever girlfriend was carrying him around like a trophy. And as he got older, things began to change. Masculinity became more appealing, and well, the rest is history. 

He'd had flings and short relationships here and there, but most people were only interested in getting into his pants, not getting to know him as a person. The problem with being inhumanly beautiful was that people only ever worshipped you, they didn't see themselves as your equal or able to stand against you, and that terrified most. Honestly (and he knew it), Oikawa was lucky to have a friend like Iwaizumi, who wasn't afraid or nervous around him in any way. Someone he could truly be himself around, someone who had always accepted him despite his blinding perfection - something Iwaizumi would argue is just made up in Oikawa's head.

A giggle and hushed whisperings sounded from behind his head as a group of girls talked amongst themselves, in which Oikawa automatically assumed he was their topic of choice. What he didn't realize as he brushed his soft hair from his eyes and pulled out his notebook from his bag (with one of his biggest shit eating grins, of course) was that the girls weren't in fact looking at him, but a tall, beefy, intimidating bulk of muscle and tanned flesh that stepped down the stairs to take his seat beside Oikawa. Iwaizumi wore sweats and a black t-shirt. His bare feet were stuffed into a pair of brown leather Birkenstocks, and a hand combed through his spiky hair in a nervous habit he always did when he was thinking too hard.

It's ironic in itself really, that someone who obviously gave zero shits about what they looked like had every person in the room panting like a cat in heat.

Oikawa jumped as his friend's heavy body lounged out in the seat next to him. Oikawa licked his lips and his throat went dry. But the moment was cut short by Iwaizumi's sharp eyes peering over at him, a clear mixture between anger and confusion swimming to the surface. He grumpily grunted at Oikawa in greeting.

"Hey--" Oikawa's voice cracked and he cleared his throat before trying again. "Hey, Iwa!"

Iwaizumi ignored him, taking his own supplies from his backpack and setting them on the desk, writing notes as the prof began his lecture.

Oikawa couldn't drag his gaze off him. He'd always thought Iwaizumi was extremely hot, someone - if he wasn't his best friend, and  _straight_ , for fuck's sake - that he would pine after like there's no tomorrow. And now, seeing him in a different light, Oikawa's buried want for his body broke forth, clutching his heart tightly and pooling in his groin. He felt his eyelids flutter lightly, remembering the roughness of those large, calloused hands running over his skin, and the bruises he had to prove that it really happened. His eyes fell shamelessly to the large bulge in Iwaizumi's loose sweatpants and his mouth went dry remembering how he had tasted, so musky and--

Iwaizumi was watching him. A deep, confused scowl curving his lips as he reached out one of those big hands and pushed Oikawa's chin away and towards the front of the auditorium. This seemed to snap him out of his trance. He blinked widely a few times, then cleared his throat and procured a water bottle from his bag, taking a long drink to diffuse the awkward tension that hung between them from him openly drooling at Iwaizumi's junk. He pasted on an innocent smile and shifted his body to face Iwaizumi more directly.

"How're you feeling this morning, you were having a pretty rough night last night, hm?" Oikawa hummed cheerily and rested his chin upon his fist, gazing into Iwaizumi's sculpted face with interest. "I know how much of a party animal you are but drinking that much on a school night is bad for you, Iwa."

Iwaizumi's scowl deepened further, etching itself into his tan skin and wrapping over his jawbone. Oikawa relished in that expression, he'd always loved making Iwaizumi mad - it had always been the highlight of his day, after all. And yet, he found himself studying the familiar frown with fascination. The way Iwaizumi's brows pinched harshly together, and the way his nose scrunched up slightly in a way that was almost cute. The sharp line of his jaw, his piercing, narrowed dark eyes. He was handsome, so utterly handsome Oikawa nearly sighed.

Iwaizumi blinked blankly a few times and he ran a hand through his spiky hair unconsciously as he searched for a response. His eyes stared off into nothingness over Oikawa's right shoulder as he desperately tried to remember what happened last night. Coming up with only flickering memories of a smooth, toned body under his, the high pitched gasps and moans that had turned him on _so fucking much_ he could barely control himself. He vaguely remembered anything after drinking himself under the table. The only thing that clearly stuck in his mind was the feel of smooth, fair skin under his hands. The feeling of wanting to mark every inch of it, claim it animalistically as his own. He felt so confused with himself, his lack of morals, his moment of weakness. Iwaizumi wasn't a petty person, he didn't brush around the bush and he  _certainly_ would never sleep with someone right after he broke up with his girlfriend. No matter how much she ended up hurting him. He would never trust a stranger with a stupid revenge fuck in his right mind, and he almost hated himself knowing he'd done it anyway. He was a mess of guilt and anger and frustration. 

"Yeah." Iwaizumi's gruff voice rumbled from beside Oikawa. Oikawa's eyes lit up, feeling heat pool in his stomach as that gravelly yet silky smooth voice poured from Iwaizumi's lips like a hot dream. He wanted more of it, his body craved it like it were a drug and he pressed another question.

"You wanna talk about it at all?"

Honestly, Oikawa wasn't really in the mood to drop the bomb that they slept together anyways, knowing his friend well enough to know he'd be livid over it. A little guilt wasn't something new to Oikawa, but it  _was_ bad for his skin and that was the real issue here.

"Nah."

"You were so drunk I thought I'd have to call an ambulance for alcohol poisoning. Wouldn't be a first, hm?"

Iwaizumi frowned to himself at that thought, his pen set down beside his notebook and he tuned out the prof's rambling.

"Yeah I don't really remember anything from last night, to be honest..." He said quietly, almost just to himself. Oikawa's smile widened into a huge shit-eating grin.

"Nothing?"

Iwaizumi scowled at him angrily, like the very sound of his voice or the innocence in his bright eyes made him want to rip his head off. Oikawa straightened, clapping his hands quietly in bubbling mock excitement.

"Oh! There's my Iwa! And here I was thinking you were getting all soft."

"Fuck off, Trashkawa." He grumbled and picked up his pen again, ignoring his friend in favour of the lecture. "Leave me the fuck alone. I'm not dealing with this shit today."

Oikawa hummed to himself and let his gaze linger on Iwaizumi's face for a moment longer than what was socially acceptable, before turning back to his notes with a sigh. He tried determinedly to focus on his prof over the next few achingly long minutes in vain. He could hear Iwaizumi's relaxed breathing from beside him. He could just make out when he adjusted in his seat or ran a hand through his hair out of the corner of his eye. His body...  _his body_. It was like it was calling for him to crawl onto his lap and continue where they left off last night. He found himself slightly miffed that Iwaizumi  _didn't_ remember fucking him, like, it probably would have destroyed their friendship, but Oikawa couldn't shake the feeling that he  _wanted_ Iwaizumi to know it was him. And to want to do it again, just like Oikawa did.

And that thought absolutely terrified him.

Oikawa didn't go back for  _seconds_. It was the rules of his little game. Fuck and leave. He'd been grateful before when Iwaizumi said he didn't remember it, mostly because it made it easier to maintain their friendship in the long term. But still, he couldn't help feel like it must just be the alcohol that made Iwaizumi (thankfully) forget. Because no one would ever forget sleeping with Oikawa Tooru _intentionally._ It's not like he was bothered by it, not even a little bit, not at all. He may  _want_ to sleep with Iwaizumi again but not being remembered wasn't that big a deal. He was not upset.

He was confused with himself. What were these unfamiliar feelings he suddenly felt? This sudden string of possessiveness, jealousy, the feeling of wanting to be noticed by his friend in more ways akin to the night before. It was perplexing... and yet it felt right.

"I don't get it..." He mumbled to himself defeatedly.

"...It's not that hard."

Oikawa blanched, whipping his sore neck to look over at Iwaizumi's grumpy expression that only grew when Oikawa looked at him directly. Iwaizumi leaned into his space, resting an elbow on his desk at writing a few quick notes on Oikawa's nearly blank sheet.

Iwaizumi huffed and returned to his own notes, leaving a flustered and frozen Oikawa to shake back to reality. "You don't get it because you're not even listening, you idiot. There's no notes on your sheet." 

Oikawa then looked down at his page, slightly embarrassed, where then he saw a small scribble in Iwaizumi's surprisingly neat handwriting. ' _We can go over this after class,_ ' it stated. His heart thumped rapidly in his chest, go over  _what?_ He couldn't mean... he actually _remembered_ after all? Oikawa held a hand to his mouth and Iwaizumi looked at him like he'd just contracted a disease. He pulled lightly at his scarf, trying to cool his swiftly heating face, and cleared his throat a few times. Iwaizumi's eyes narrowed, unnoticed by a sputtering Oikawa, honing in on a fresh, dark hickey that hid beneath the layers of fabric with interest, before it was covered once again, and returned his gaze promptly to the lecture down below.

"Such a good friend, Iwa!" Oikawa bubbled, winking at the sneer on the other boy's face when he'd finally regained his composure. "What would I ever do without you. I could kiss you!"

He grumbled, only half listening. "Fuck off." 

"And the next time you're hungover, I'll even stay with you."

"Shut up."

"You're not still hungover are you? You've never been great at holding your liquor either, unlike me. That's why girls always go for me and not you, because-"

Iwaizumi growled with his hand clenched around his pen, threatening to break it in half. "Holy  _shit_ ,  _shut up_ _!_ I'm actually trying to get an education here." 

Oikawa gasped. "Oh!  _Language_ , Iwa!"

"Just listen to the fucking lecture, Trashkawa. I can't make you pass your exams." Iwaizumi mumbled, "If you spent half the time your empty head focused on volleyball instead of school, you'd have been graduated years ago."

Oikawa blinked the momentary lust out of his eyes at the mention of volleyball. Was Iwaizumi... complimenting him?

"Do you miss volleyball, Iwa?" He asked after a few moments' silence.

Iwaizumi tapped his pen on the desk and ran a hand through his hair anxiously.

"Well I never  _wanted_ to quit."

"... I miss you." Then Iwaizumi looked at him with one dark brow raised, a deep scowl downturning his lips. Oikawa blinked, only now understanding his lack of explanation. "Playing with you, that is."

"I blame you for getting on this fucking school's team." Rolling his eyes and letting out a deep sigh, Iwaizumi set his pen down and crossed his arms over his chest. "We could have gone  _anywhere_ but you _had_  to play for the best team in the country-"

"-Oh, but Iwa, I didn't choose this school, this school chose  _me-_ "

"-which is why I can't play anymore." Iwaizumi grumbled to himself bitterly.

"It's not my fault I'm better than most."

"What the fuck am I even doing at this school, it wasn't even my top choice..." He mumbled defeatedly with a shake of his head, not paying any mind to Oikawa's desperate attempts to seek his attention.

"Such a good boy, following me around just like a dog-"

Iwaizumi shoved him then, knocking his shoulders to the side. Oikawa's lower back pinched sharply, and he winced at the pain. His face cringed in discomfort, and Iwaizumi looked on with mild confusion and worry, his frown retracting momentarily as he blinked widely.

"Sorry..." He mumbled, unsure why Oikawa wasn't as resilient as usual and feeling guilty that he'd  _actually_ hurt him this time. He usually resorted to violence with Oikawa anyways, but the idiot had always bounced back up like nothing happened.

"No, no it wasn't from that, don't worry." Oikawa waved his hand with a smile.

Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes. "Hard practice?"

"You could say that."

Iwaizumi turned his attention back onto the lecture, but his arms remained folded over his chest.

"We should play together again sometime!" Oikawa smirked. "You could come to my practice tonight, the coach won't be there so I'm running it for the team." Iwaizumi visibly perked up, seriously considering taking Oikawa up on the offer.

"Nah." He finally said.

"Aw, but Iwa!"

"Not really in the mood right now."

"Well not _right now_ , but maybe later-"

"Look, I haven't had the best couple of days, I need some time to... sort some shit out."

Oikawa's large eyes flitted with concern and he grasped Iwaizumi's wrist, tugging lightly. Iwaizumi turned his head.

"I'm sorry, Iwa. It might be good to get out though, no need to mope over some ugly girl."

Iwaizumi shut his eyes tightly and shook his head to himself with a fruitless chuckle. "You're  _such_ an asshole, you know that, right?"

"But Iwa-"

"Just... don't talk shit about her-"

"She cheated! She's a slut-!"

"I  _said_ shut the fuck up."

"Mean, Iwa! I'm trying to help you! I want to find someone who won't take advantage of you like that whore did."

"Can you fucking not?"

"All I'm saying is that she wasn't good enough for you, if she'd sleep around while you two were dating then maybe you deserve someone better."

"Says you, who would fuck a rabbit if it looked at you the right way. You're such a hypocritical piece of shit."

"Iwa! That almost hurt my feelings that time!" Oikawa shrugged. "Not everyone has a moral compass like you."

"Obviously not." Iwaizumi scoffed, eyes narrowed. "How the fuck did you even know about that anyways? I broke up with her last night and then..."

Oikawa licked his lips nervously, wanting to find some way to diffuse this sudden tension. So he did the only thing he knew. He laid a hand on Iwaizumi's thigh near his knee, rubbing small circles with his thumb over the cotton material.

"You didn't deserve that, you're a loving person and she hurt you." Oikawa's gaze tunnelled onto Iwaizumi's lips and he moved his hand further up Iwaizumi's thigh, closer and closer to his groin. "You need someone who-"

Iwaizumi gripped his wrist. His expression looking somewhere between disgusted and mortified before morphing into rage. He stood abruptly from his chair, glaring murderously down on a wide eyed Oikawa and his hands fisted at his sides. Every person's attention in the auditorium then turned to them. The prof even trailed off to squint up at the tense exchange with interest. Oikawa couldn't feel their gaze, he could only see the lumbering body of his friend above him, radiating anger and hatred and frustration.

All he knew was that Iwa had finally snapped. Oikawa knew what was coming, Iwaizumi was going to yell or punch him. Maybe tell him to stop fucking around. Slap his wrists. You know the deal. He smirked, cocking one elegant brow up in a silent challenge, crossing his arms over his chest. Very, extremely tempted to stick his tongue out childishly, egging Iwaizumi on. This was a game to them. He loved it when Iwaizumi snapped. Sure the punch might hurt for a bit. Sure he might get a small bruise on his otherwise flawless skin. But this was his way of feeling better than Iwaizumi, even for a moment. Iwaizumi had always seen himself as Oikawa's equal, something he surely appreciated, but also something that ground his gears the most about his best friend. Because Oikawa Tooru was untouchable.

What he  _most certainly_   _didn't_ expect, was for Iwaizumi to calmly pack his things back into his bag, sling it across his broad shoulders, and leave the auditorium swiftly and quietly without another word. No outburst, and no fist to his jaw. Oikawa stood in disbelief, watching the corner where Iwaizumi disappeared in horror, while whispers grew around him. The whole auditorium buzzed with noise. The prof made some joke about 'ah young love' and the lecture began again.

It was evening by the time Oikawa finally decided to head home. He'd been avoiding it, dreading it, not exactly wanting to confront Iwaizumi even though his conscience screamed at him to. He'd never reacted like that before and Oikawa could tell something was  _seriously_ fucking wrong here.

He played with his picked apart muffin and sipped his disgustingly lukewarm vanilla latte with a shudder as he leaned back on one of the sofas in his local cafe on campus. He'd finished practice early, some of teammates noticing his mind was elsewhere and others complaining they could use the extra hour of time to do homework or nurse their broken bodies or even just go straight to sleep. It wasn't worth doing drills if everyone was half-assing it.

He took another sip of lukewarm latte absentmindedly, his lips curling and his nose scrunching up as he forced himself to swallow. The employees were closing up shop, bustling around cleaning and restocking to prepare for the next morning. One girl mopped (rather passive aggressively) around Oikawa's sofa as he stared obliviously off into space. He flicked a crumb of muffin onto the floor for good measure, earning an incredulous look from the girl mopping, then got up from his seat slowly. So slowly, in fact, that a few employees considered going to help him, like he was a crippled old man or something. With a heavy sigh, and a flick of his bouncy hair, he limped out into the crisp night air and pulled his scarf up over his nose, stuffing his hands in his navy blue jacket pockets. He adjusted his glasses (which he didn't actually need but they completed his outfit and that was of utmost importance) on the bridge of his nose and plugged in his earbuds, hoping to drown out his worried thoughts on his short walk home.

He played something indie and wild, like  _Cage The Elephant,_ adding songs to his  _up next_ to try and avoid thinking about anything in particular. Playing the music on max volume so that it could be heard by passerby's, even though the dimly lit sidewalk was mostly empty. He had his head down, scrolling through his music selection on his phone, when someone, a girl, about half his height bumped into him, causing him to fumble. His phone dropped to the ground, ripping the earbuds from his ears.

"Shit! I'm so, so sorry!" A high voice squeaked.

He took a step back, quickly reaching for his phone to check for damage, when a smaller, more delicate hand picked it up first, looking at the screen before handing it to him.

"Oikawa?"

"Oh... Mirai."

Oikawa took the apparently unscathed phone from her, stuffing it back into his pocket hastily. He positively  _glared_ at her.

Her honey hair fell in effortless curls around her long neck and fair-skinned face, and (as always) she had a thick layer of makeup on, coating her pasty skin and darkening her eyes dramatically. It seemed fitting that someone as fake and deceiving as Iwaizumi's ex wore a caking mask to hide from the realities of the world.

Mirai seemed slightly taken aback by his cold expression, and she tentatively smiled up at him.

"... I-I haven't seen you in a while, how've you been?" She reached forward for a hug, one Oikawa limply reciprocated. "Sorry I haven't stayed in touch, you probably already know from Iwaizumi but we broke up..."

"Oh I know." He answered sweetly.

"Yeah..." She laughed lightly and turned her gaze to the ground. An evil smirk wormed its way onto Oikawa's face, and he couldn't help the words from flooding from his corrupted heart. Those possessive and jealous feelings that Oikawa had felt for Iwaizumi from before were arising once again. Seeing her in front of him now, knowing the pain she'd caused Iwaizumi, Oikawa felt  _rage_ boil inside.

"It's too bad, really. You two were so sweet together, I can't imagine what happened for you to split." The devilish smile widened and Oikawa forced his voice to remain calm and even, wanting this bitch to feel every ounce of his wrath. Who did she think she was anyways, acting like a  _normal_ person when she just went and cheated on his best friend. Thinking she can just _talk_ to Oikawa like a friend, like an equal. 

No one fucks with Oikawa Tooru's best friend. No one but Oikawa himself, that is. 

"Yeah I guess we both just drifted apart, you know?"  _Lies._

He hummed in acknowledgement, his eyes burning holes through her skull.

"Er... We should... get together for coffee or something sometime, I know I'm going to miss hanging out with you everyday from now on, but let's try to make something work."  _More lies._

"Ah yes. Well if you'll excuse me, I have a hot date I'm late for." He flicked his hair out of his eyes and Mirai blushed up at him. "I'd love to hang around and chat, but unfortunately I'm not into 'hanging out' with _cheating whores_. I hear the strip club's hiring if you're still looking for ways to fill your pathetic life, or perhaps freelance work is more your style." He said calmly, deadly. Her face twisted in momentary confusion, then her own anger was cracking that fake mask she wore, her true self coming through in waves of bewilderment and animosity.

"Wh-What the shit--"

"I'm sorry, but I really have to go, my reputation's on the line and I can't be seen with a _skank like you_ on the curb late at night. People might get the wrong idea."

Her face fell open in shock. Jaw unhinged and sinking to the ground. Her eyes wide with anger and embarrassment. Oikawa didn't see any of these things though, because he was already brushing past her, humming happily to himself as he strode down the dim sidewalk towards home. He knew he'd been harsh, but reality sucks. Something, in time, Oikawa would learn the hard way. And besides, someone like that didn't have the right to claim Iwaizumi's gentle heart. He could hear her screaming something incoherent at his back, and he raised a hand to flip her off.

Oikawa was mad. Despite his calm, bubbly demeanour, despite the smile that played on his lips, or the small bounce to his step when he walked down the dark sidewalk, he was fucking pissed. Pissed as shit. His anger was brewing in his gut, threatening to rip him apart and swallow him piece by piece, as his mind tumbled with thoughts of Mirai and her fucking _his best friend_ over like she did. That bitch just made him so angry, she always had as well. She was so...  _fake_. And that was coming from fucking  _Oikawa_.

He hopped up the front steps of his and Iwaizumi's shabby little house, the lights were still on which Oikawa assumed meant Iwaizumi was still awake. He needed to talk to him, he needed to come clean and tell him what happened last night. Tell him he's sorry he took advantage of him, earn Iwaizumi's respect back after he teased him in class today. He didn't want to be like Mirai, he fucking hated Mirai. If it was Iwaizumi's way of getting revenge on her by sleeping with Oikawa, then it was Oikawa's way of getting revenge by setting things straight between him and Iwaizumi.

They were best friends after all, how difficult could it be?

Oikawa strode in through the door with confidence he didn't have, just barely making out the dim lighting of the living room to his right, the yellow light from the kitchen on his left, and the dark lumbering body of Iwaizumi as he dragged him inside and shoved him against the back of the front door forcefully. He felt his breath momentarily knocked out of him as Iwaizumi fisted his hands on the collar of Oikawa's jacket. Pressing his face close, Oikawa could clearly see the unadulterated rage.

"You better fucking come clean with me. No lying, no half-truths." Iwaizumi spat. The anger Oikawa had been expecting earlier that day in class now showing itself loud and clear. "Please tell me last night we... we didn't..." His voice trailed off, his eyes large and wide, like giant white saucers, desperately searching Oikawa's own for answers, almost in _fear_. A vein pulsed in Iwa's reddened face and his hands gripped white-knuckled around the fabric of his jacket.

"H-How did you--?"

"How did I figure it out? Well shit, man, you gave a fuck ton of hints during class today. I'm not an idiot."

Oikawa gulped dryly. "Iwa, I'm so sorry. You were drunk, I was... slightly less drunk, and I didn't know what to do, I panicked--"

"So you thought  _sleeping_ with me was the best thing to do?  _God_ , you're such a fucking  _slut_."

Oikawa bit his lip, knowing better than to spew out insults at him, even though he dangerously wanted to.

"How could you do that to me? I was fucking upset about breaking up, not looking for anything more. Are you fucking  _stupid_ _?"_

"You had different thoughts about that when I was riding you into the floorboards--"

"Fuck off, you asshole."

"No _you_ fuck off, I was trying to  _help_ you!"

"All you did was--"

"Make you feel good. No need to thank me, I already know I'm the best fuck you've ever had--"

" _Thank_ you? Why the  _fuck_ would I  _thank_ you for making me feel like a piece of shit? I would never--"

"All you did was get back at your cheating whore of a girlfriend, what right does she have to make  _you_ feel bad about something  _she_ caused. Sleeping with someone after what she did to you was inevitable, you're just lucky I was the one who found you before you could call up some prostit--"

"You're my  _best friend_ , dumbass, not a booty call!"

 _"Well maybe that can be the same thing!"_ Oikawa screamed.

Iwaizumi paused his train of insults, the rage freezing in his coursing blood as he stared in confusion at the slowly unravelling calm of Oikawa in front of him.

_"What?"_

"Oh  _please._ I know your alcohol tolerance, and while you drank a shit ton last night I know you at least remember sleeping with me, at least a little bit. I'd be a hard fuck to forget, obviously." Oikawa rolled his eyes and gripped one of Iwaizumi's wrists, tugging lightly on it so he'd let go of his jacket.

"And what makes you think I'd ever want to sleep with you again, huh? I'm fucking straight--"

Oikawa leaned forward, harshly pressing his lips against Iwaizumi's and fisting his hands in the black fabric of his shirt. He kept his burning eyes open, anger reflecting in Iwaizumi's gaze and he deepened the kiss, mildly pleased to find Iwaizumi shoving his tongue into his own mouth, clashing their teeth together in soft clicks and biting at each other's lips. Iwaizumi pulled roughly on Oikawa's hair, inciting a small gasp from the pale boy and forced his head to the side, approaching at a different angle. Oikawa bit at Iwaizumi's tongue, holding the slippery muscle between his sharp teeth before sucking it back into his own mouth, closing his eyes and pulling Iwaizumi's body flush against his own in a small jerking motion. They broke apart, Oikawa nipping his way harshly down a tanned neck, leaving a trail of abused red flesh in his wake. Iwaizumi pushed him up against the door, grinding their hips together and moving his hands to knead roughly at Oikawa's firm ass. 

"What happened to  _me_ being a hypocritical piece of shit?"

"Shut the fuck up. I don't wanna hear your voice, you idiot." 

At that, Oikawa bit down  _hard_ on the junction between Iwaizumi's neck and shoulder, creating a tiny pool of blood that beaded down into his dark shirt, then moved his mouth to work on the skin around his adam's apple. He could feel Iwaizumi's hard erection brush heavily against his own through the confines of his jeans, and any last shred of patience he had dispersed.

"That's enough, just fuck me already." Oikawa breathed heavily into the other's ear, licking a wet strip up the side of his face. "We're doing this, right?"

Oikawa undid his jacket, a button flying off in his desperation and he threw it to the floor, slipping his fingers under Iwaizumi's sweatpants and boldly taking hold of his heavy erection in one hand. Iwaizumi made quick work of Oikawa's jeans, sliding them down to his knees while Oikawa's hand pumped in desperate jerks.

"Lube." Iwaizumi stated tersely, furiously. Oikawa reached down to his bag that had been thrown to the floor, procuring a small bottle which he popped open with his teeth and poured (rather messily) onto Iwaizumi's now exposed cock. "Seriously?"

"Well you never know when or where..."

"Such a fucking slut I swear to god."

Oikawa swiped some lube off with two fingers, and crudely pressed them into his ass, hoping to stretch himself at least a little bit so he wouldn't get torn apart by Iwaizumi's rage. He managed only about four strokes though, before Iwaizumi was roughly shoving his chest against the door and spreading his ass cheeks wide. Not caring that it was filled with Oikawa's fingers, he pushed in slowly. Snapping his hips forward as Oikawa removed his hand to grip tightly against Iwaizumi's firm thigh behind him.

"Jesus fuck." Oikawa sputtered out. His mouth hanging wide as he breathed shallowly. Feeling himself on the verge of hyperventilation. His body was protesting, the sensitive flesh around his entrance screaming at him to stop as Iwaizumi pushed all the way in until his navel pressed firmly against the curve of Oikawa's back. His nails dug deeply into Iwaizumi's thigh, while his other hand scraped against the door as he turned his head to the side. Eyes unfocused. Willing himself to not break apart as Iwaizumi sat comfortably inside him.

Iwaizumi began to pull out shallowly and Oikawa flinched, his shoulders spasming and hiking up to his ears.

" _Wait!"_ He all but screamed and Iwaizumi froze. Cringing as he wiggled his hips and opened his feet a little wider. After a few tense moments Oikawa gave a small nod and Iwaizumi began pulling out once again.

Oikawa closed his eyes, wishing the unbearable pain away and wanting desperately to feel the pleasure he knew was sure to come. He pumped his half-hard length limply, trying to focus on something,  _anything_ , other than his brain telling him his body couldn't handle it. His body screamed at him to stop, automatically reacting to the pain like when skin touches a hot stovetop. But the anger boiling deep in Oikawa's chest told him this pain was good, it was what he needed. How dare Iwaizumi get upset with him after all Oikawa had tried to do was help him. How dare he protect that  _bitch_ of an ex instead of realizing Oikawa was better to satiate his needs. Wasn't he happy after last night? Didn't Oikawa make him feel good? Or was that, too, just all in Oikawa's head.

Iwaizumi started up a rough pace, thrusting with murderous intent into the tight confines of Oikawa's ass and gripping his pale hips with bruising force. Oikawa let out a broken sob, feeling tears well up in his waterline as Iwaizumi snapped his hips particularly hard. Another sob followed the first, his resolve breaking under the stretching pain. He didn't want  _this._ This wasn't how this talk was supposed to go. Why was Iwaizumi even fucking him anyways? Didn't Iwaizumi just make it clear he didn't want anything to do with them sleeping together? And what was this dull ache in Oikawa's chest that was more prominent than any of the other sensations he currently felt? Why did this fight between them feel like a sledgehammer to the gut?

"Fucking-... hurts..." Oikawa weakly whined out in between gasps, leaning his forehead against the door with a dull  _thump_.

One hand clutched his heart, the other clenched into a fist against the wooden door. With another sob, his body was wracked and shaking, and finally sensing something was wrong Iwaizumi halted his harsh movements. Oikawa couldn't see the concern in the eyes of his friend, nor could he see the guilt that rose like bile from the pit of Iwaizumi's stomach, but still it happened. Iwaizumi searched for words, finding nothing as he looked down to where their bodies were still connected together. They stood there for a minute in silence - Oikawa sobbing, pulling at the fabric of his shirt over his chest, and Iwaizumi, who leaned his forehead tenderly against the base of Oikawa's skull, his previously rough hands now warm and comforting as his thumbs rubbed into Oikawa's exposed hipbones.

Oikawa was shocked out of his momentary weakness when he felt soft kisses being planted along the back of his neck, when he registered Iwaizumi's hands tenderly holding his hips. Firm and strong, like all the times before in Oikawa's life, being the pillar of support Oikawa had always needed from his friend. Only this time they found themselves in a much more intimate situation. And the sad thing was, despite Oikawa feeling first angry then upset and then resentful about how the past couple of days' events had played out, he was still  _painfully aroused_ by the thought of Iwaizumi's body inside of him. He stroked his length, his breathing calming, and once again Iwaizumi started his movements. At first, just a slight grind of his hips against Oikawa's cheeks, then slowly, gently, he pulled out nearly completely.

"Okay?" Iwaizumi asked as another kiss was planted behind Oikawa's ear. And  _holy shit_ if that wasn't wonderful. He had Iwaizumi, gentle and caring, doting on his deepest most carnal needs and supporting him even during a time like this. No matter what they were currently doing, no matter what had transpired between them in the past twenty-four hours, they were still best friends, and they still needed each other's fierce and unwavering support. That, at least, would never change.

"Y-yeah..."

Planting another kiss to Oikawa's shoulder, Iwaizumi fell into a steady, gentle rhythm, surprised to find himself actually  _enjoying_ the small gasps and moans of encouragement sounding from the other boy, not even turned off that it was a guy, that it was  _his best friend_ for fuck's sake. If anything, it only seemed to excite him even more.

"So fucking good..." Iwaizumi breathed out against Oikawa's neck and he moaned wantonly in response. Finally feeling the pain subsiding as Iwaizumi brushed every so often against his prostate.

Oikawa hitched his hips up and ground his tailbone back against Iwaizumi's groin in circular motions, reaching a long arm behind him to wrap soundly into his friend's dark hair. Iwaizumi snaked an arm over his chest underneath his shirt, brushing his fingers over tender nipples while his other hand held tightly onto Oikawa's hipbone to get more leverage. Feeling like a man possessed as lust clouded his eyes, he watched the panting, partly obscured, blushing cheek of Oikawa with studious fascination. Moving his hand ever quicker over his own erection, Oikawa was (embarrassingly) beginning to feel himself reach his threshold so quickly. He panted hotly against the door in front of him, squeezing his eyelids shut tight as Iwaizumi rocked into him, moving his body forward with each powerful thrust. 

"Iwa-... Iwa, I'm-!"

That was all the notice he got before Iwaizumi felt Oikawa's body spasm around his length as he came in streaks of white that stickily clung to his fisted hand. Oikawa's mouth opened in a silent scream, a high pitched sound resonating from his throat as hot white nothingness blinded his vision, feeling Iwaizumi pull out of him quickly, followed by a few loud grunts and a warm splatter across his lower back as Iwa came on him. They both stood there in gasping silence waiting for the other to break the tension that hung so heavily in the air. When suddenly, Oikawa's swaying, exhausted body gave out, crumpling into Iwaizumi's arms.

"What the fuck." Iwaizumi said to himself, looking around the room trying to think of what to do. Did this idiot seriously just faint after orgasming? It wasn't  _that_ good, was it? Iwaizumi quickly pulled his sweats back up over his waist, leaning Oikawa up against the doorway as he ran a hand through his hair nervously. His mind was plagued with thoughts of guilt and worry and warmth. What had he just done? Why had he been so  _into that._ It wasn't just that Iwaizumi had just fucked a guy, but also that he fucked  _Oikawa_ of all people. He'd just fucked his childhood best friend, and while it happened Iwaizumi had  _liked it._

He steadied his breathing, deciding to sort out this huge mess after putting Oikawa to bed, because he certainly couldn't leave him out here all night, covered in cum and sweat and surely a sore throat from his sobbing earlier. Iwaizumi hadn't meant to hurt him, he'd never meant to hurt him. He'd just let his emotions get the best of him, just as they always had around Oikawa. He was angry, confused, but instead he scooped Oikawa's taller body up into his chest, carrying him bridal style up to his tiny bedroom, decorated with volleyball posters and his dorky alien pillows and set him gently on the bed. He then scurried off to the adjacent bathroom, wetting a cloth with warm water and bringing it back to clean up the mess he and Oikawa had both made on their goosebump-ridden skin. He quickly stripped Oikawa of his jeans and boxer briefs, pulling out a fresh pair from a drawer and slipping them (with great difficulty) over Oikawa's pale thighs and up snugly around his waist. Noticing the imprints of dark purple bruises set on the insides of his thighs. Vaguely wondering if he'd done that, he traced them gently before sneaking a glance at Oikawa's sleeping face.

Long eyelashes dusted his high cheekbones, and a pink blush was permanently pressed from ear to ear. His soft lips were kiss-swollen and red, yet they quirked into the tiniest of smiles. It was at this moment that Iwaizumi had a terrifying thought. That while he slept like this, devoid of his usual pompous mask and fake smiles, Oikawa was truly beautiful.

He ran a large hand gently over his friend's flushed cheek, relishing in the momentary stillness of the night, before blinking himself back to his senses. He quietly tucked Oikawa into his blankets, then he stood, and walked out of the room without another glance.

Iwaizumi seriously doubted he would sleep much tonight. He had a lot of things to think about. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's enjoying this shitty series so far, glad to have your support!  
> Comment suggestions/prompts for future chapters, I might end up using them for inspiration (also because I have no hecking clue where I'm going with this ha)


	3. Of Bickering & Blowjobs

Oikawa Tooru was, by all means, a petty person. He got what he wanted when he wanted it, and no amount of boundaries or effort could keep him from anything if he had any say. Which is why he found himself concerned when he came to the realization in class that morning that the thing he wanted most was Iwaizumi. He was entirely seduced by his best friend, and while he tried hopelessly to pay attention to the lecture, Iwaizumi's body beside him  _did_ things to him. 

The way he'd held Oikawa while they fucked the night before after their fight, the way his rough hands had turned soft and comforting, the gentle kisses to his neck. He'd played Oikawa with ease, and Oikawa himself had no choice but to melt completely into his ministrations. The man was a magician, and Oikawa had the desperate notion that he didn't want this to stop, any of it. He wanted to keep sleeping with Iwaizumi, because it felt good, and because unlike with other guys Iwaizumi somehow made every touch feel like  _fire_ across Oikawa's skin. Somehow he warmed Oikawa's chest and sent butterflies scattering in his stomach. It was a unique feeling he'd only ever felt around Iwaizumi, and while the sex was good, these feelings only made it better. 

He pulled out his phone.

> _Meet me outside?_

He hit send and heard Iwaizumi's phone buzz in his pocket next to him a moment later. Those calloused hands, the same ones that held his hips gently the night before, now pulled the phone out while Iwaizumi read the message. Oikawa bit his lip when Iwaizumi only turned to look at him in response. His brows pinched, his eyes narrowed, but searching. Searching Oikawa's eyes for meaning, not fully understanding what this was all about yet. He quirked a brow in question, and Oikawa answered by grabbing his bag and swiftly leaving the auditorium.

"Where are we going?" Iwaizumi asked when Oikawa had pulled him by his sleeve once they were in the hallway. Oikawa hastily brought him in the only semi-private direction he could think of - the washroom. Oikawa knew Iwaizumi was strong enough to break his grip if he wanted, and he also knew his friend was surely confused about Oikawa's sudden speed. But Oikawa needed to get somewhere private soon, because thinking about what he could do with Iwaizumi's body, what Iwaizumi's body could  _do to him_ , it was just all too arousing.

The bathroom seemed to be empty, classes were still ongoing after all. This was dirty, but it would have to do. Iwaizumi seemed to catch on when Oikawa led them both inside the same stall and began unbuttoning Iwaizumi's jeans with haste. But he didn't stop him.

Oikawa immediately dropped to his knees, kissing hotly at the bulge beneath the fabric of Iwaizumi's black briefs. His hands gripped the muscle at Iwaizumi's thighs. His eyes closed as he once again fell victim to his emotions. Iwaizumi was above him now, panting ever so slightly, the bulge beneath his briefs hardening with leisure. Oikawa was desperate, his hands running up Iwaizumi's thighs, underneath his shirt to touch washboard abs, then back around to grip at his firm ass. Then finally, he pulled Iwaizumi's briefs down as well, watching his length, half-hard and delectable, bob just above his brow. Oikawa licked his lips, and while he didn't notice it, Iwaizumi's eyes flared with desire as he looked down on him.

He set to work at once, his hand pumping his friend's length while he suckled fervidly on his balls. He heard the lightest of grunts sound above him, and Oikawa smirked to himself as he continued more feverishly. He licked a hot stripe up Iwaizumi's length, and suckled teasingly on the head, eyes still closed. And then, with a fire in his belly, he sank down onto the length in one fluid movement. His cock hit the back of Oikawa's throat repeatedly, and he gagged a couple times while he started to adjust to Iwaizumi's ever surprising girth. His head bobbed, his tongue moved along the underside. It was only when Iwaizumi's rough hand gripped at his scalp did Oikawa open his eyes. And what he saw was undeniably incredible. His best friend, hot, flushed, and panting, completely unwound and devastatingly handsome suddenly engulfed his vision. Oikawa could see nothing but him, nothing but the taut cords in Iwaizumi's strained neck, his closed eyes, his heaving shoulders.

Oikawa was right.  _This_ is what he'd wanted.

Iwaizumi thrust into Oikawa's mouth, meeting him halfway as Oikawa pushed forward. He focused on timing his breathing, panting through his nose as Iwaizumi began to lose control. And all through his orgasm Oikawa kept his gaze trained on his friend's face, cataloguing the sights and sounds to memory that he'd surely be thinking about for weeks to come. He was beautiful, he was intimidating. And Oikawa felt that familiar trill of nervous excitement in his gut as he watched Iwaizumi slowly come down from his high. He swallowed the bitterness down without a question, wanting to taste Iwaizumi for himself, wanting  _all of him._ His head bobbed a few more times, the oversensitivity no doubt felt and appreciated by Iwaizumi, before he pulled off his friend's length and settled for gentle kisses around his groin and hip flexor.

Iwaizumi's hand released its death grip in Oikawa's hair, the hair itself being left messily wild and sticking in different directions.

He cringed a bit in pain when he pushed himself from the floor, the hard tile leaving its mark on Oikawa's bruised knees.

"What--?" Iwaizumi started but stopped himself as he watched Oikawa unzip his own jeans and begin to stroke himself. They were so close to each other pressed within that stall, so close they could feel each other's body warmth, feel the tickle of their breath. Oikawa was flushed and needy, blowing Iwaizumi served only to arouse himself even more and he found himself staring into his friend's wide and shocked eyes as he stroked quickly. He reached out a hesitant hand to guide Iwaizumi's fingers towards him. Iwaizumi gulped dryly. And when his fingers replaced Oikawa's along Oikawa's heated length, his thighs began quivering with desire. Iwaizumi moved his hand at a tentative pace, but it was good. The heat of his palm and the craved touch of his fingers caused Oikawa's head to fall back against the wall of the stall with a soft _thump_.

 _"Fuck,_ Hajime..." Oikawa huffed breathily, but the moment the words left his mouth Iwaizumi's hand faltered and stopped. He opened his eyes to see fear in Iwaizumi's. He arched his back seductively against the wall, smirking a little when his friend's fingers twitched around his length reactively. He raised one hand up over his head, the other pushing his shirt teasingly up the length of his body. "Don't leave me like this..." He pouted and whined, eyes half-lidded and dark with lust.

"You fucking idiot, Trashkawa." Iwaizumi grumbled as his hand began stroking and twisting again. He averted his eyes to the side. "Don't tell me what to do, dumbass."

Oikawa smiled as his eyes closed shut, just feeling the sensations his best friend brought him, these strange emotions that were boiling deep in his gut that made every touch feel that much more special. He let out a wanton moan, the sound echoing off the washroom walls, and it was immediately cut off by Iwaizumi's hand silencing him, his palm pressed up against Oikawa's lips.

"What the fuck, man. Someone could hear!"

In response Oikawa began licking against Iwaizumi's hand, watching with dark curiosity as his friend's face flushed a deep shade of red. He could feel himself playing precariously on the line of comfort and complete unravel, and with a few more strokes to his length Oikawa was pushed over the edge. When his orgasm hit, he groaned out against Iwaizumi's palm, his hips thrusting up into his hand as white cum splattered in thick droplets over Iwaizumi's fingers and down on the tiles below. Oikawa's chest heaved, his lashes fluttering. Iwaizumi removed both his hands from Oikawa's body and started to wipe himself down. He tucked himself into his pants and turned to unlock the stall door.

Oikawa threw his arms around his neck, bringing their faces close and leaning their foreheads against each other.

"Kiss me..." Oikawa pleaded, closing his eyes and leaning in himself when Iwaizumi looked at him repugnantly.

But instead of a kiss, Oikawa felt Iwaizumi grip his face in his hand and shove him backwards, an irritated although withdrawn expression marring his handsome features as he looked back into Oikawa's own disappointed expression.

"I'm not kissing you."

"But Iwa... why not?"

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and left, washing his hands in the sink as Oikawa followed out behind him. Class was almost over, so they set off in the direction of home.

"Was I bad?" Oikawa asked suddenly when Iwaizumi had been far too quiet for far too long.

"Fuck off. We're not talking about this."

"I'll do better next time, you won't even have to do anything."

"What makes you think there'll be a next time?"

Oikawa smirked, clasping his hands behind his back as he leaned forward to look at Iwaizumi's face.

"Cause I'm irresistible."

"You're full of yourself."

"I could be full of  _you_ if you wanted--  _OW!_ Iwa, stop!-- Ow!"

Iwaizumi let go of Oikawa's ear and shoved him. Then continued walking as Oikawa hurried to catch up.

"Shut up. I said we're not sleeping together again, and that's final."

 

*

 

The room was hot with pants and slick skin. The toned chest of Iwaizumi below him firm underneath Oikawa's spread fingers. Iwaizumi's hands, gentle but sturdy, guiding his hips as Oikawa raised up on his knees before sinking back down. The burning stretch and the intoxicating feeling of being filled threw his head back as he gasped out in pleasure. Oikawa shut his eyes as he bounced in Iwaizumi's lap, his hair soaked with sweat and sticking in every direction. He readjusted his position, leaning back and his shaking arms supporting his weight on Iwaizumi's legs, his own feet planted firmly on the mattress. His jaw slack. His face euphoric. 

And when he looked down at Iwaizumi, calmer than Oikawa but still flushed and panting, he smirked and fucked himself harder.

"I told you I'm irresistible, Iwa."

 

*

 

Oikawa threw the ball with his right hand. Timing his approach, he jumped. Leading with his elbow, then his shoulder, then his core, he made contact. The ball went spinning at impossibly high speeds over the net and into the deep corner, where it bounced into a catching net on the far side. The far court was scattered with blue and yellow mikasa balls, only a few stray ones on his own side from previous failures of hitting into the net. He landed more heavily than he expected, and a sharp twinge of his right knee made him instinctively crumple to the ground so as to not put more stress on his previous injury. He pulled himself up, checking to make sure everything was indeed alright, then plucked another ball from the basket beside him and readied himself for another serve with a couple echoing bounces of the ball.

A deep voice sounded from his left. "You're going to kill yourself at this rate."

He lowered the ball as he peered over to find Kuroo watching him, his eternal smug smirk resting on his face.

"It's called  _practicing,_ Kuroo. You should try it some time." He took in his teammate's frame, adorned in slim track pants and an oversized black hoodie, and what appeared to be firetruck red crocs on his feet. Oikawa reeled back in disgust. "Are you wearing  _crocs?"_

Kuroo looked at his feet then back up at Oikawa with a shrug. "They're comfy with socks?"

"I don't know you."

"I think I'm okay with that."

"Mean!"

Kuroo peered around the gym, taking in the copious amounts of balls on the floor and shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Don't you think your serve's good enough? I mean, it's not like it needs work."

"I have my world league debut on the weekend, thanks for remembering." Oikawa feigned hurt, bouncing the ball again and then throwing it as he made another powerful serve.

"Yeah we're coming to watch. Nosebleed seats."

"You and Kenma?"

"Kenma? Pf no. The team."

Oikawa smirked. "Are you two fighting or something?"

"Nah he just didn't want put in the effort of getting there, even when I offered to carry him."

"He doesn't want to watch me!?"

"He said he'll watch it live online."

Oikawa snorted, pushing the hair from his face as he suckled on his water bottle.

"Bokuto's acting like Akaashi finally agreed to a date. He doesn't stop talking about him anymore." Kuroo laughed.

"That hasn't changed."

Oikawa bounced another ball in his hands, tuning out Kuroo's presence for a moment as every ounce of concentration suddenly became focused on his next serve. With a loud  _crack_ this one sailed out the backline and Oikawa pouted the moment his feet hit the ground. He wiped the sweat from his brow with the hem of his shirt, then turned to pick another ball from the basket behind.

For the past few weeks leading up to his world league debut, Oikawa had felt more stressed about the pressure to prove himself now than he ever had in his life. This was his big moment, this is what all the hours and hours of practice, all the injuries and failure, all the excitement and anticipation... it all led up to this. He'd finally hit the top, but deep down he thought he'd always feel like he was less than. Perhaps it stemmed from other insecurities in life, but whatever the cause it had forged and cultivated his discipline, and brought him to the level he was at today. Call him a perfectionist or an overachiever, but Oikawa liked to think of himself as a hard worker, plain and simple. He'd never been the best at volleyball, and he'd often been overlooked by those with more talent. And yet here he was, finally above them all. Sometimes his tenacity made him a bit obsessed however, and back in high school it was always Iwaizumi's job to keep Oikawa from overworking himself. Now that role evidently had been filled by Kuroo, even if Kuroo's methods were a little different than Iwaizumi's had been - meaning significantly less violent. And as much as Oikawa and Kuroo loved to flirt with and berate one another, they were also there for each other when they needed to be.

"Are you nervous?" Kuroo sat down on the benches behind him, peeling the warm clothes from his skin and pulling on his court shoes. Oikawa scoffed, holding the ball outstretched and peering down the length of his arm with one eye shut. The view beyond was his goal. The net his obstacle.

"I'm never nervous, Kuroo." He smirked, voice suddenly steady, eyes hard, face serious.

"Ha! Bullshit."

"Is not!"

"Is too." Kuroo's smirk dropped as he silently regarded Oikawa's next serve with minor pause. "I'd be nervous."

Oikawa smirked, resting one hand on his hip. "It's just volleyball. When I remind myself of that everything suddenly seems so much easier."

Kuroo chuckled. "Arrogant son of a bitch."

"Don't laugh at me!"

"You got balls for brains."

"At least I have a brain!"

Kuroo's shit eating smirk returned tenfold, and Oikawa rolled his eyes. Kuroo was not an idiot by any means, it was common knowledge.

"Why're you here so early anyways?" Oikawa asked instead of correcting himself, he wouldn't give Kuroo that much joy. "You're always late for morning practices."

Kuroo scoffed, beginning his warm up stretches and physio exercises off on the sideline.

"Honestly I'm worried about you." He stated when his back was turned from Oikawa. Then he looked over his shoulder nonchalantly, raising a brow lazily when Oikawa narrowed his eyes at his friend.

"And why would that be?"

Kuroo stepped into a lunge, chuckling deeply as he did so.

"You just seem happy. It's concerning."

"Mean! I'm not any different than I was before!"

"Before?" Kuroo questioned.

"I-..."

His friend's face brightened. Another piece of common knowledge: Kuroo was a gossip-loving bitch.

"You met someone, haven't you." He deduced excitedly as Oikawa spun the ball he held against his palms. He threw the ball, stepping into his approach, and with a loud crack it went sailing right into the net, bouncing as it hit the floor. Oikawa pouted.

"I meet a lot of people."

"Is he hot?"

"Why do you make it sound like I'm in a relationship? We're just fucking around, that's all."

"Yeah but this one's different,  _you_ seem different."

"Oh? Humour me."

"You seem relaxed. And your smiles aren't fake.  _And_ I haven't seen you flirt with anyone in a while. So is it official? You've caught the feels?"

Oikawa rolled his eyes. "I haven't caught anything. We just fuck when we feel like it."

"But you've slept with him more than once, right?"

"Yeah, and...?"

"You never do that."

"Oh please. Just because he's hot, and the sex is really good, and that I've slept with him more than once doesn't mean he means anything special to me. I could've slept with anyone more than once but I just never wanted to."

"Well what makes this guy any different?"

"I don't know... I trust him?"

At that, Kuroo's smirk disappeared, his dark brows pinched. He was studying Oikawa with the same fierce intensity Oikawa knew he reserved for schoolwork, important matches, and particularly delicious salt-grilled mackerel, as seen many times before.

"Who is he?"

Oikawa gulped. "No one special."

Kuroo continued to watch him in an eery silence, and Oikawa did his best to not appear shaken by it.

"You're creeping me out..."

Then Kuroo blinked the momentary intensity away, looking down at the ground with a frown.

"You're sleeping with Iwaizumi, aren't you." He said bluntly. Oikawa stiffened.

"Wh-What? No, no, we're just--" He waved away the remark unsuccessfully.

"Just... be careful, okay? I know it might seem like fun and games right now but you two are best friends. This isn't like you hooking up with another random guy from the club, you two have history, and that makes things a little more complicated."

"Pf. Why're you so concerned anyways, you jealous or something?" Oikawa tried diffusing the tension, but Kuroo ignored him.

"I just don't think you understand what this means and I'm worried about you, okay?"

Oikawa huffed, anger starting to curl in his chest at his teammate's words. 

"Why're you making such a big deal out of this? Nothing's going to happen, we both have the same reasons for sleeping with each other."

"Do you know that?"

"What?"

"Have you talked about boundaries and shit?"

"Okay, look. This really isn't any of your business..."

Kuroo gave him one final hard look, then his sly smirk was back, the light returning to his eyes. He started another stretch along the wall, his back facing Oikawa.

"You're right, it isn't my business." His voice echoing a little in the empty gym. "But you're my friend, and I know you. You don't always think things through fully, and I don't want you to get hurt."

"Iwaizumi won't hurt me. I trust that he won't."

Kuroo's messy black hair nodded a little as he adjusted his position against the wall.

"For both your sakes, I really hope he doesn't."

By the time the rest of their teammates had filed into the gym, Oikawa was drenched in sweat, frustrated, and confused. As much as he didn't want to admit it, Kuroo was right. This  _was_ dangerous - what he and Iwaizumi were doing. They've been best friends since childhood, they've been there for each other after bad test scores, injuries, family deaths, awful break ups... They knew each other inside and out. It's true, Iwaizumi  _wasn't_ just another guy from the club, and for whatever reason, he didn't even feel like just another mark on the bedpost either. Sleeping with Iwaizumi felt  _right_. It felt  _dangerous_. It was exhilarating.

Maybe it was for those reasons that he kept going back for more, that he couldn't help himself when Iwaizumi would roughly press him up against the closest wall, couch, or clear space of floor. Their history made the transition from just friends to... whatever they were to each other right now so easy, however Oikawa knew they were playing with fire every time they slept together.

Oikawa wasn't used to this kind of sexual relationship, or more specifically, he wasn't used to any kind of sexual relationship that included a history, or  _feelings_. He was always told in volleyball that while he didn't have the immediate talent, he had another gift that rarely anyone else had - that he could always bring out the best in his teammates, no matter who they were. He'd always worried about his worth on the court, and in life. That if his role was always to make everyone else be the best they could be, then why did he even bother trying to improve himself. He made other people feel good, his function was to always act selflessly. And somehow, these feelings of lesser worth, his anxiety to better himself, his need to prove himself, and ultimately his low confidence all translated to his real life as well. He slept with people only once. That had always been his rule. He was the bright light that moths flocked to, but he was afraid that if he let people in, if he truly laid his trust in them and opened himself up, if he slept with them more than once or allowed himself to acknowledge and pursue his own feelings for people that they'd realize he was not a bright light at all but the sputtering coals of a dying fire. It was precisely that reason that he would never sleep with someone multiple times lest they discover how pathetic and needy he really is.

By sleeping with so many people, Oikawa was trying to replicate what it would feel like to be wanted by someone forever. People had always been attracted to him, but he knew better than anyone that attractiveness only ran so deep. It was degrading, how Oikawa'd virtually whored himself out to the next hottest guy when he needed validation. It was disparaging how his deep-rooted fear of letting people see the real him had fabricated his pompous alter ego.

But sleeping with Iwaizumi was different. He knew Iwaizumi knew the real him, and hadn't abandoned him, and despite Oikawa  _still_ virtually whoring himself out to his friend, at least this time he knew Iwaizumi couldn't run away in disgust. What they were doing wasn't right, it wasn't fair. But  _god,_ did it  _feel_ right. Sex had never been as intense or as emotionally invoking as it had been whenever he fucked around with Iwaizumi. Perhaps it was because, for once, Oikawa was getting something in return rather than only making his partner feel good, even if these feelings that bubbled within him were unintentionally placed there by Iwaizumi. And so, Oikawa couldn't find it in himself to stop.

 

* 

 

"You smell like sweat." Iwaizumi greeted him as Oikawa plopped tiredly into the seat adjacent in their first lecture of the day. This particular class was their only large one, and the comforting chatter of three hundred surrounding students buzzed in Oikawa's ear. 

"I thought you liked me sweaty." Oikawa teased, pleased to see the scowl and slight shake of the head from Iwaizumi. Oikawa had, in fact, showered after practice and now smelled  _not_ of sweat, but cherry blossoms and mango. Iwaizumi hated that smell, he told him it made him smell like a girl, but that was one of Oikawa's many secrets in perfecting the art of seduction - no one could resist him if he was not only hot, but now smelled like sparkles and rainbows on top of it. It was foolproof. He'd even blow-dried his hair.

"Do you even know how to use a shower?"

"I thought you could show me after class."

"Fuck off. And don't talk about that shit around other people."

Oikawa pouted, eyes large. "Are you embarrassed of me, Iwa?"

"No shit." Iwaizumi scoffed. "How'd I even get myself into this mess."

"Mess?"

"Yes, mess. I don't plan on sleeping together regularly, and we're not gonna be an on-and-off thing, got it? Now get all your gay fantasies out of your head before I beat them out. You're not my endgame."

Oikawa flinched a little, those words perplexingly hitting a bit deeper and a bit sharper than perhaps intended. But why was that? How do these feelings of jealousy always manage to surface precisely when Iwaizumi blows him off? Oikawa shouldn't feel these feelings, it wasn't his place to when they were only using each other for a bit of fun. It was wrong to feel jealous, it was wrong to feel a little hurt, or guilty, or angry at Iwaizumi when he continually refused to face the reality that maybe them sleeping together didn't have to be a  _bad thing_ all the time. It only fuelled Oikawa's own insecurity about himself and his body. And so he told himself that feeling these feelings were wrong. For the sake of his mind.

"I know that. It's all just fun, Iwa." Oikawa smiled widely at his friend, missing the guilt in Iwaizumi's eyes when he turned his attention to his phone instead.

"Let's skip today." Oikawa heard after a minute.

"Huh?"

Iwaizumi was watching him now, noting how Oikawa didn't look up from his phone when he spoke. Iwaizumi ran a hand through his dark hair, rolling his eyes as he stood.

"I said let's skip. C'mon."

Oikawa laughed, a joyless sound. "Your mom isn't going to like it when I let her know you've--"

He was cut off by Iwaizumi hastily pulling him from his seat (Oikawa quickly snatched his bag) and down the isle towards the staircase.

"Iwa! Wh-What are you doing?"

"We need to talk things through, you idiot. What do you think?" Iwaizumi answered gruffly when they were in the hallway, Oikawa's wrist still held in Iwaizumi's grasp and leading him towards the doors.

Oikawa giggled a little. "Oh?"

They walked in ominous silence all the way home, back to the privacy of their tiny house with the white picket fence. However, despite either of their wishes the time passed quickly. Too quickly. And soon enough they were toeing off their shoes inside and making their way awkwardly to the kitchen. They sat down at the table. This felt way to formal. Oikawa cringed.

With a sigh Iwaizumi's eyes slid from Oikawa's face to the grains of the table, picking at an imaginary stain and slouching back in his uncomfortable wicker chair. 

"Don't look so grumpy, Iwa! You're making this seem so scary..."

Iwaizumi scowled. "So... we really need to talk."

Oikawa gulped the anxiety down, he willed away the sweat from his palms. "Mm? About...?"

He knew what this was about, he'd been stupid to think they could continue as they were, and Iwaizumi obviously recognized that too. And yet the possessiveness, the jealousy, the deep, yearning desire Iwaizumi brought out of him made Oikawa never want to let this go. He'd never had these kind of experiences before, and he kind of wondered how it was Iwaizumi of all people that brought it out of him in the first place.

Iwaizumi shuffled a little in his seat, looking oddly uncomfortable with the topic of their discussion. It made Oikawa nervous.

"The thing is... I don't entirely...  _hate_... sleeping with you." Iwaizumi scratched the back of his neck, his eyes bouncing everywhere but directly at Oikawa.

Nearly instantaneously, Oikawa felt a surge of confidence, of giddiness, of... relief? Why was he relieved? Being relieved meant he really  _did_ want this, and like all the times before when he'd realized that exact thought, it undeniably terrified him. It terrified him because he was in danger of opening up to someone, but that feeling was effectively shattered when he looked over at his best friend. He trusted Iwaizumi. Maybe this time things could be different.

"I can't see why anyone would ever  _hate_ sleeping with me." Oikawa smirked, sitting a little taller in his seat. "I'm  _perfect--"_

"Oh, shut up, dickwad." Iwaizumi scowled, irritated. "If you say that one more time I'll kick you in the shins."

Oikawa whined. "Iwa! You're so mean to me..."

"Look, do you want to keep sleeping together, or not?" He snapped, and Oikawa stopped, eyes wide.

"Am I that irresistible to you too--"

"--Fuck off!--"

"--Boys have always told me, but when they're that desperate then it's not worth it, hm?"

Iwaizumi didn't answer, just glared, only now fully looking Oikawa in the eye. It was... intimidating. Had Iwaizumi always looked like that?

Oikawa gulped, suddenly nervous again. "Of course, I'd never  _cheat_ on you--"

"We're not a couple."

"I know that..."

"We can sleep around with whoever, alright? This," Iwaizumi gestured between himself and Oikawa across the table, "is not a thing. And it'll never  _be_ a thing."

"I got it." Oikawa said softly, forcing his lips into a flirtatious smile. "Can I ask you though... why do you even want to sleep with me anyways? Is it because I'm pretty? Or maybe, you got a secret thing for guys that you never told me about, hey?"

"I'm not gonna inflate your ridiculous ego, you trash."

"Oh come on, Iwa, that's not fair!" He knew he had a point. Iwaizumi knew he had a point.

Iwaizumi sighed. "It's just-- when we do it, I feel--" He licked his lips, struggling over his words. "You're just good at what you do." He finally admitted, crossing his arms over his chest and resuming his glaring contest with the table.

What he... Oikawa wasn't sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult. Good at what he does? Was Iwaizumi calling him a slut? He took it in stride, however, trying not to let the pang of hurt show on his face as he grinned obliviously at his best friend. He prayed it looked more like a grin and not like a grimace, but he couldn't really be sure.

"What about kissing?"

"What about it?" Iwaizumi answered.

"You're not a stickler about kissing meaning anything special, right? Because--"

"Only during sex, agreed?"

"But we've kissed before--"

"Only ever during sex."

"Was I that bad, Iwa?" Oikawa pouted.

"I don't exactly want to make a habit out of it."

"Fine, no kissing." Oikawa agreed reluntantly. "Cuddling, though?"

"No!"

"Oh, why not--"

"That's way too intimate, that's for couples! We're not like that, okay? We fuck, and we leave."

"You just want me for a good fuck."

"I just want you for a good fuck. That's  _it."_

Oikawa licked his lips, nodding, fighting to ignore why that just seemed so  _wrong_ in his heart.

"If that's what you want, Iwa."

Iwaizumi scoffed. "Don't tell me you're actually--" He trailed off, his face paling. "Are you... Oikawa you don't, like,  _like_ me, do you--"

Oikawa burst into laughter. Uncontrollable, maniacal laughter. He heaved, holding his stomach and curling in on himself, tears forming at the corner of his eyes when he found he couldn't breathe. Iwaizumi immediately looked irritated once more.

 _"You?"_ Oikawa chuckled as he spoke, making the words a little breathy. He wiped a stray tear from his eye, falling into another bout of laughter. Iwaizumi began to stand up and leave, but Oikawa grabbed his wrist, giggles still breaking passed his lips in surges. "C'mon, don't leave. All I meant was,  _no_ , I don't have a  _crush_ on you, if that's what you're thinking. It's a joke, I'm joking, Iwa. I thought you knew me better." He grinned around the words teasingly. Iwaizumi just rolled his eyes. "Just because I'm not into girls doesn't mean I want to date every guy I see, you know that."

"Yeah no shit I know that." Iwaizumi growled, a little defensively, a little embarrassed. "You can't keep a date longer than you can keep your dick up."

The room suddenly got very quiet. Eerily quiet. And when Iwaizumi looked back over at Oikawa, the laughter was gone, the teasing expression had vanished. Oikawa looked like he'd seen a ghost. Iwaizumi frowned.

"You're not still... sensitive about that, are you?" He ventured warily.

Oikawa licked his lips, laughing colourlessly. He seemed to shrink into himself ever so slightly.

"Why would I be sensitive about something like that, Iwa?" He asked lightly, his head cocked to the side, a grin on his face. But no matter how he tried to play it off, Iwaizumi could still envision the moment before clearly.

"Whatever."

"Yeah, whatever."

And with that Iwaizumi went off to his room, leaving Oikawa to himself at the table downstairs. But Oikawa was thankful, he needed to be alone for a minute to compose himself back into his bubbly facade again.

Their agreement was a promise, a frail promise but a promise all the same. They were best friends, but they still got on each other's nerves. Was this really a good idea? Opening Pandora's box? It felt dangerous, to be allowing each other access to such a private and intimate part of their lives when at the same time they were unwilling to bring their feelings from their friendship into the bedroom as well. It felt like juggling between turning on and off their feelings, something that they knew individually would prove to be more than difficult. So instead, alone and silently, they thought about the future, about the past week, and the past hour, in anxiousness and desire.

And without either understanding it, all they could think about was one another.

 

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for everyone's continued support  
> 


	4. Feelings & Shit

_"Fuck,_ Hajime..."

"Shut  _up!_ Don't say my name."

"W-Why... nnhg..."

"I don't want to hear it from your fucking mouth."

"So...  _mean_ to me, Hajime-- OH!"

"Fucking shut  _up!"_

 

*

 

"Mm,  _fuck..._ just like that..."

"Stop making this weird."

"Your fingers are-- fuck... in my ass, and you're concerned--  _ahh..._ about this being weird?"

"I can easily take them out and stop too, you know."

 _"Hajime..._ you can't leave me like...  _fuCK_ , don't stop, don't stop..."

"Stop saying my name and I'll consider it."

"Shit--  _please_... ahh... Hajime!"

 

*

 

_"Fuck."_

"You like that?"

"Shit... where did... you fucking learn... how to--"

"I'd rather not talk--  _nnhg..._  about other men... in the bedroom... Hajime. It ruins the mood."

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum-- ahh..."

"Inside...  _please, Hajime..."_

"Fuck off... ah-- _ahh... shit..."_

 

*

 

"Hey..."

"Mn?"

"So uh... How... How do you like it?"

"Oh, you  _do_ care!"

"Shut up. This is just fun, nothing more. I just... You should be enjoying it too..."

"Oh, Iwa? And what makes you think I'm not?"

"Whatever."

"No, no, tell me, tell me! Am I not screaming loud enough? Can't you just hear me now, 'oh,  _Hajime,_ Hajime, fuck me!'--"

"Fuck off."

"-- Isn't that proof enough. Didn't your girlfriend ever scream like that for you or--"

"What happened to not talking about exes in the bedroom?"

"Mn I think that was just my thing, was it not? Oh! Are you thinking about me, Iwa? Is that why--"

"Look, are we gonna fuck or not?"

"Mean, Iwa!"

 

*

 

They lay down panting beside each other. The stickiness of their skin clung to the thin sheets of Iwaizumi's bed. Their chests rose and fell. Their eyes on the ceiling. Oikawa hummed contently, rolling onto his side to face his friend. Iwaizumi looked over at him when Oikawa ran his fingers appreciatively over his chest. Iwaizumi licked his lips. The taste of salt. His eyes were heavy.

Oikawa was peering up at him now, his usually perfect hair mussed and sweaty. It was pushed back softly to expose his hairline. His lips were quirked into a soft smile. Teasing Iwaizumi from where he lay only inches away. He leaned in and caught Oikawa's lips in his own. They were soft, and still momentarily as Oikawa's instinct gave way after brief pause. Oikawa tasted of sweat and the faintest traces of alcohol. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Hey…”

Pulling his panting cheek off the countertop, Oikawa turned dark eyes behind him to see Iwaizumi’s sweaty chest and familiar pinched eyebrows. When their eyes made contact, Iwaizumi quickly shifted his gaze to the side with an irritated expression.

“So uh… How… How do you like it?” He mumbled to the floor.

Oikawa made a small choking sound out of sheer shock, then frantically tried to regain his usual elegant yet teasing composure. Yes, composure, despite being pinned to the kitchen counter feeling Iwaizumi’s heavy erection prodding the underside of his left butt cheek.

“Aw Iwa! You _do_ care!” His teasing words not having the same effect while his voice came out shaky with need and desire.

Iwaizumi growled, pressing his rough fingertips with bruising force into the soft flesh of Oikawa’s slim hips. His anger seemed to rise and his previous statement was washed from his mind. “Shut up.”

The sharp pain surprised him and he let out a light yelp, blinking his wide eyes while Iwaizumi frowned murderously down at him from behind.

“Fucking masochist.”

Oikawa let out a giggle and wiggled his hips invitingly back and forth across Iwaizumi’s hot member.

In reality, Oikawa didn’t like pain. Not on the volleyball court, not in everyday life, and not during sex. He had to admit it excited him a bit; the way Iwaizumi was always rough with him in bed. But that’s how Iwa had always been anyways. It was normal for Iwa to act this way around Oikawa, and he didn’t want their dynamic to change just because they’d been sleeping with each other for a couple of weeks now.

No, Oikawa loved being fucked nice and slow. At least, he _wanted_ to be. He wanted to goddamn feel _everything._ And he wanted to love it.

Feeling the burning wildfire that seeps into his skin and blood and bones, the way he’d always envisioned it’d feel when he finally found someone that understood his body more than himself. People had always flocked towards him yet everyone he ever slept with only wanted him for his body - like a pretty little toy to use when they felt like it. No one had truly ever made him feel what he wanted, and Oikawa, like the greedy piece of trash he was, wanted _everything_.

Deep down, in the bottom of his cold, empty heart, Oikawa knew he just wanted to be loved by someone.

“Come on, Iwa! Don’t chicken out on me n-”

His words were abruptly swallowed as an immediate gasp for air raced down his throat. Iwaizumi entered him fast and hard, his blunt fingernails carving half moons into his smooth hips as Oikawa felt himself being so incredibly filled by Iwaizumi’s thick length.

He forced his shoulders and inner walls to relax as the large head adventured deeper into his wet heat, and he let out a broken cry.

Iwaizumi stilled as if on cue.

“You okay?”

Breathing shallowly and opening his legs wider to accommodate Iwaizumi behind him, Oikawa nodded his head shortly a few times then let out a strangled and unconvincing, “Yeah.”

Iwaizumi frowned and started to pull out his length completely, evidently deciding this was a bad idea.

“We don’t have to do this if it hurts, you know. You haven’t really had a break in a week, fuck, I’m so sorry, I just can’t control myself-”

“Iwa stop talking and just fuck me already.” Oikawa snapped, his usual jovial expression replaced with one that offered death as he stared holes into the countertop.

He pushed his hips forcefully until they connected against Iwaizumi’s groin behind him, his hot length pulsing deep inside. He gyrated his hips in small circles, moving up onto his elbows on the countertop for better leverage and bit his lip harshly between his teeth.

Iwaizumi’s jaw fell slack and his hands took up their usual position on his hips with new vigour. Rolling his hips slightly, he pushed into Oikawa at a slow pace at first, spreading his ass cheeks wide and watched as he became engulfed over and over with fascination.

Oikawa could feel Iwa moving through him with each hard thrust, he could feel when Iwa gripped his sweaty hair, or when his fingertips pushed fresh bruises into his marked skin, or when he grunted heavily in his ear. He could _feel_ Iwa using him, just like he’d promised.

What Oikawa didn’t feel was the pleasure that he knew bombarded his every fibre when they slept together, or the excitement at the forbidden lust between two best friends. He didn’t feel thrilled or even happy at the uncontrollable feelings of pleasure that broke the surface when he climaxes. Or the content feelings of fulfillment when your partner orgasms because of what _your_ body did for them.

No.

Oikawa felt numb.

He didn’t like this - being _used_. But he forced his expression to remain light and airy, like he’d just gone to heaven and back because of Iwa’s dick as it slid out of him. He smirked widely at the grumpy and heaving form of Iwaizumi behind him and opened his mouth to make yet another teasing remark when something flashed over his thoughts and he paused.

Whenever they’d slept together, Oikawa hadn’t had to fake it before. It’s not that he was _bored_ with what they’d just done, per say, just that… something was different.

This didn’t feel right.

With a tight lipped frown Oikawa pushed himself gracefully off the countertop, his half hard cock bobbing limply to the side as he quietly made his way upstairs.

“You gonna leave that or…?” Iwaizumi huffed behind him, obviously referring to his dry and untouched cock. But Oikawa was ignoring him, hitching his hip up slightly to wipe at some dribbling cum that fell in thick droplets down his inner thigh. 

He had more important things on his mind.

Mostly to do with the disappointed pang he felt in his heart when reality finally hit him in the face.

 

*

 

It was a one hour train ride to and from the National Team Training Centre and the university, half an hour each way.

His stop was next, and Oikawa shuffled between the heavily layered clothing of businessmen returning home after a long day at the office to reach the side doors. He firmly grabbed a pole located near the exit as the train swayed slightly as it prepared to stop and he bumped into the knee of a woman wearing a professional looking black suit, with black glasses and inky black hair to boot.

She was blushing and Oikawa let out an apology with a smile before flicking his bouncy hair from his eyes and stepping out of the train into the busy station with his elegant head held high.

After a minor mental breakdown over which shirt to wear for his first national team practice (promptly followed by Iwaizumi yelling at him for being an annoying sack of shit), Oikawa decided on a teal lightweight running shirt covered by a zip up hoodie and his usual black sweatpants. Not to mention his _extremely fashionable_ pair of Adidas sandals paired with black training socks that was entirely for comfort purposes and no he couldn’t have chosen a different pair of shoes thank you very much. He knew, somewhere, Kuroo would be very pleased with him.

He shifted his training bag on his shoulder and made his way through the crowd. Not that it was difficult when everyone gave him a wide berth just to stare as he passed by.

Humming to himself happily and bursting into the chilly autumn air outside the train station, Oikawa looked at the very conveniently placed, rather large building who’s outdoor lights lit up the street and parking lot below.

It was a massive building, one that looked huge from a distance, but one could only truly appreciate its size once you stepped through the front entrance. Large windows fell from ceiling to floor in the immensely grand hallway and large chandelier-like lights hung from the high ceiling. Some twisted looking metal horse that he supposed was a very meaningful statue was placed neatly to one side, and the squeaking of court shoes on wooden flooring could be heard from an open doorway to his left.

A basketball team was running some drill and Oikawa scrunched his nose up at the smell of sweaty bodies in mild disgust when he peeked in from the hall.

It seemed unfitting that a place where people sweat everyday in sport looked like the inside of a palace.

The building was a hub for many different sports in all of Japan, funded by the government and large businesses who desperately wanted to be recognized for their contribution in aiding the different National Teams in their aspiring successes.

Truth be told, it was a pretty inspiring place to be. A place where the best athletes in many different indoor sports converged to train. He could hear the squeak of shoes and the loud rumble of voices echoing off the large walls of the empty hall, the occasional tweet of a coach’s whistle and the laughing that accompanied the hidden voices in each separate gym down the lavish building.

This was Oikawa’s home. This was where he belonged.

Above each gym was a number starting from one until the building curved in a macaroni-like state and the numbers continued counting up further down the hall.

The volleyball national team always practiced on court six.

Oikawa took a deep breath, a wide genuine smile curled his lips and he strode with purpose down the hall. His hands felt clammy and his heart pounded in his chest with anticipation as he watched the numbers slowly grow, until he stood in front of the closed doors of gym number six, clutching his hands in front of his chest like a child on their first day of school.

With another deep breath, he pushed the doors open, faking confidence he didn’t really feel, only to be met with an empty gym.

He checked his phone, he was twenty minutes early.

Okay, so maybe he was a little overzealous for this practice, and okay _maybe_ it was a little unprofessional at this level to be showing up so early.

Oikawa quickly considered his options. He could get out a cart of balls and practice his serve while he waited, but what if his new team would make fun of his enthusiasm. He was still pretty young to be on such an elite team, in fact he was the youngest player by four years. Especially as a setter, who’s job is to control the game and call the plays, most people would probably assume he was too inexperienced to lead Japan’s team successfully. Currently, Japan was even ranked in the top five in the world. His team would _definitely_ make fun of him for being early.

But before Oikawa could scurry away to hide until practice began, he heard the echo of footsteps from down the hall and the laughter as two men approached him.

As they got closer, Oikawa could see that one was about his height, standing at 6’1, while the other looked much taller.

He immediately recognized the shorter (an older, balding man with a crooked half smile and deep lines between his brows from years of stress) as the man who hand picked Oikawa to be on the team, his new coach.

“Oikawa, welcome, thank you for coming.” He said calmly, wrenching that crooked smile on his face. “I’m glad you could join us for a practice before the prelim game tomorrow afternoon, it’s much appreciated.”

Oikawa bowed politely with a wide smile, demonstrating his high respect for the man who allowed him the chance to pursue his dream.

“I’m very grateful to be here, sir.”

“Oh please, quit it with the formalities, kid.” His coach said, the calming expression on his face before now brimming with amusement and the crackling fire of energy despite his old age. As an ex-pro player himself, it was fitting that his feisty personality matched the explosive nature of the sport.

Oikawa already liked him.

His coach jammed a thumb at the taller player looming beside him.

“This is Ishida Kaito, our setter.”

“Just call me Kaito. I don’t have time for formalities or shit on this team, that’s something this old geezer drilled into my head years ago.” Kaito stuck his hand out for a handshake. “Besides, we’re teammates now.”

Oikawa seemed slightly taken aback by the large, intimidating man before him. He exuberated such an intensely confident aura about him that made Oikawa want to immediately trust him, to place all his faith in this idol who he’d only ever watched on tv before.

He was so much taller than Oikawa ever imagined, he had to be at least 6’4 or 6’5, and it made Oikawa feel like a mouse in comparison. Just a weak, baby, tiny little mouse.

He clutched Kaito’s outstretched hand firmly, his eyes filled with warmth and adoration, and a large genuine smile plastering his face.

“It’s nice to meet you, Kaito.”

The band of three walked inside where Kaito and Oikawa chatted idly while putting on their court shoes and then warming up for practice.

Slowly more and more players began trickling in, some coming over and introducing themselves to Oikawa, and others roughhousing with one another before their coach gave up scolding and joined in as well. This felt natural, it felt… nice.

The only thing that ticked him off was that everyone, and I mean _everyone,_ was taller than him. Well, besides the libero; a feisty, jumpy guy with spiky bleached hair and a devilish glint in his eye. Oikawa felt tiny once again.

Volleyball, in general, is a highly competitive sport. Especially in a country where it’s quite popular like Japan.

Oikawa had gone his whole life wishing, dreaming, working with every ounce of energy he had to make this dream come true, and to be on this team seemed like something fallen from heaven. Rarely anyone is able to make it this far in volleyball, since it can be a very political sport, and Oikawa felt so fortunate and grateful that the stars had finally aligned for him and let him have his chance.

Because this team was perfect. It was everything Oikawa had ever dreamt, maybe even more.

This was a team he knew he could learn to be confident in leading next year, especially with the guidance he knew he could learn from Kaito.

His coach clapped his hands loudly and yelled in a rough voice for everyone to settle down and make their way over to him in the centre of the court.

“Many of you may ‘ave met our newest player starting this season, Oikawa Tooru, and for those who ‘aven’t yet - he doesn’t bite.” Their coach rasped with his crooked smile. “I know ‘e seems like a little baby to you all, but this pretty boy was chosen for the team for a reason, and I expect yah all to treat him as your equal, just like I’ve always taught yah.”

Oikawa beamed looking up into the tower of tree people who smiled in his direction at their coach’s words.

Yes, this team was perfect.

“I’ve talked with ‘im a bit after selection trials about this but as a coach I believe in being open with my players so I’ll tell yah all straight. Ishida will remain the first setter for this season, and I’m making it everyone’s responsibility to teach Oikawa the ropes with media, and fans and shit. Because he’s sure to get a hell’ve a lot more than any of you, may even get more than me if I don’t watch myself.” He joked while patting his stomach.

Oikawa blinked innocently, like he didn’t understand what they were all chuckling about.

“Speaking 'f that, I invited another player to join us for practice today and the game tomorrow. He’s on the junior national team, but with all you old boys looking to retire after this year, I’m pulling my hair out looking for good enough candidates to replace yah.” He croaked. “So be nice, ‘e said ‘e might be late but-”

At that precise moment, the gym doors burst open with a loud metallic thud and a dishevelled boy with familiar piercing dark blue eyes and short black hair that fell limply down his face straightened as every pair of eyes in the room turned to him.

“The _fuck_.”

Then all eyes turned to Oikawa who was heatedly staring with such intense confusion, anger, worry and frustration at the boy that he looked like he might set himself on fire.

“Oikawa?”

Oikawa shook his head in disbelief. This was _his_ moment, this was _his_ new team, this was _his_ dream he was chasing.

So why in the _actual fuck_ was none other than Kageyama Tobio crushing everything, once again.

 

*

 

“Oikawa, hang back a minute.” His coach called once practice was over and the players began filing out of the gym.

Oikawa excused himself from Kaito and a few other players who he couldn’t match the face to the name and strode over to where his coach was putting on his own coat to brace the coldness of the night.

His coach looked pointedly over his shoulder were Kageyama slipped on his sweatpants hastily and kicked on his sandals, taking one last glance over at Oikawa before scurrying out of the gym behind the others.

The door shut with a thud and suddenly they were surrounded with nothing but the eerie silence of the gym.

“So what’s the deal there, kid.”

“Oh, nothing, sir. Me and Tobio go way back, we went to middle school together and everything!” Oikawa said with perhaps a bit too much enthusiasm. He found himself gnawing his lip when his coach turned sharp eyes onto him.

“One of the reasons I chose you to be on this team was because you’re such a great team player, kid. That boy’s got a hell’ve a lot of talent, I want him on the team for sure, but that means you gotta learn t’ work with him.” His coach scolded. “This is a bigger game now, you’re not high school kids with sticks up yer butts. You’re not doing this for you anymore, this is for Japan. Do it for the team. Yah get what I’m saying?”

“Yes, sir.”

He stared at Oikawa under thick eyebrows before smiling his wide crooked smile and slapping Oikawa _hard_ on the shoulder.

“Good work.” He brushed past Oikawa and made his way to the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, kid.”

Oikawa’s train ride home was long and uneventful and his stomach refused to stop growling earning a few looks from the other scattered late night passengers onboard.

It was late and he still had school practice in the morning, because despite the prelim game happening in the afternoon, his school team didn’t take it as a time to slack off. 

But Oikawa was completely exhausted. He'd been let off of national team practices for the first month of school so he could focus on his studies, but the first world league game, his first international game playing for Japan, was tomorrow. His coaches wanted him to at least come to one practice before the game, even if he wouldn't be playing anyway. And afterwards, practices with the national team would become more regular, which meant adding an extra hour train ride into his day to commute back and forth from practice.

It was a lot of responsibility.

This was his debut game, and his coaches had trained him how to handle cameras and media like no tomorrow even before he had been to any official practice, especially since there would be a lot of coverage on him since he was still so young. This would be his chance to learn to handle fans as well, something he'd always had to do anyways, but now it was just on a much bigger scale.

He was basically becoming a celebrity overnight.

Except for one, new, tiny little problem that came in the form of Kageyama Tobio.

That kid was seriously going to steal the spotlight from him, just like he always had in the past, and Oikawa couldn’t allow that. He was only a first year in university, which meant the media would be solely focused on interviews with that awkward fish of a boy instead of with Oikawa, and self promotion is key to success in volleyball no matter if you’re on the national team or not. 

It’s not a sport, it’s a survival game. And self-confidence is the only way to win it.

Something Oikawa lacks, especially at the moment.

During high school, his confidence had always been _real_ , which lead to him being a great player and eventually being scouted for the university team.

But other things in his life (mainly his sex life) had slowly been breaking him throughout the past few years, until his old self had shattered completely and faking it was the only option. He was confused with himself and who he was, feeling like he had no sense of self-worth and wishing, pleading, that someone would be able to show him how.

And that’s where things got confusing with Iwaizumi. Iwa was his best friend, but lately, it seemed like Iwa only wanted to use him, just like many other men have done before. But it didn’t feel right, not with Iwa, and Oikawa got the creeping sensation that what they were doing was wrong, that it was hurting their relationship and that more could come from this. 

For once in his life, the sex just wasn’t _enough_ to fill the empty void of loneliness he held in his heart.

When he finally made it to their shabby house, complete with a cute white picket fence and a large sycamore that shaded the roof, he stepped inside slowly, the weight of his tiredness ebbing itself into his very soul.

“Yahoo, Iwa, I’m home!” He called merrily into the house, his expression in dire contrast to his cheery tone of voice.

He received silence, as usual, and proceeded to make his way up to his bedroom to promptly pass out until the first morning rays filtered in his bedroom window. But when he opened his door, he was surprised to see the sleeping lumpy form of Iwaizumi curled up on his bed, one hand clutching the pillow like a child having a bad dream and the other resting under a drool covered cheek.

Something clutched his heart and Oikawa felt the heaviness the day brought lift from his shoulders as he studied the slow rise and fall of Iwaizumi’s chest. He was still fully clothed, and as Oikawa got closer he could clearly smell the telltale scent of alcohol wafting from the other boy in copious amounts.

Great.

He gently shook his friend to consciousness, and once Iwaizumi half opened his eyes to gaze up into Oikawa’s own, Oikawa felt his breath hitch and blood rise to his face.

“C’mere.” Iwaizumi grumbled and scooted back on the bed to make room for Oikawa’s lithe body against his chest.

“Don’t forget our rules, Iwa.” Oikawa teased with a smirk and made to get up and find somewhere else to sleep, when Iwaizumi gripped his hand firmly and their eyes connected again. “But Iwa-!”

“Please.”

Oikawa blinked owlishly. “Huh?”

“Please, Trashkawa. Jus’ give m’ this, I want you.” Iwaizumi slurred earnestly and tugged on his wrist lightly.

“I’m not in the mood to fuck, Iwa-AUGH!”

His body was pulled down onto the bed and hugged tightly against the firm chest before him, warm arms wrapped around his shoulders and a sloppy kiss planted on his forehead.

"We don' need to, jus' let me hold you." 

Oikawa shakily looked up into Iwaizumi's peaceful face, a tiny smile curling the edges softly, and he tentatively looped an arm over Iwa's waist, drawing his body closer into Iwa's chest.

"You smell like a bar, Iwa." Oikawa teased.

Iwaizumi ducked his head and pecked a chaste kiss on Oikawa's unsuspecting lips. "I blame you."

With a few blinks and a blank expression, Oikawa decided not to press the subject any further and instead focused on the gentle breathing of Iwaizumi's chest as he slowly drifted into sleep.

 

*

 

He woke up before his alarm.

A gentle thrusting moved his body back and forth across the mattress and Oikawa subconsciously reached a thin hand back to grip Iwaizumi's clothed ass behind him, prodding him on.

Iwaizumi's hand was splayed out on his chest, a thumb pawing at a pert nipple and drawing a low moan from Oikawa at the contact.

This was the fucking best way to wake up in the morning.

He could feel Iwaizumi's confined hardness pressing urgently into the cleft of his butt, grinding against him in slow motions as Iwa let out a soft grunt. Oikawa started gyrating his tailbone back against Iwaizumi's length, drowsiness being overtaken with the carnal need to get more pleasure out of this. He reached a hand into his sweatpants, never having changed from the night before, and gently stroked his own cock to hardness, letting out a light gasp when Iwaizumi thrust against him from behind.

"Mmm _Hajime."_ Oikawa hummed, biting his lip and closing his eyes. His hand gripped into the firm muscle of Iwaizumi's ass harder.

Iwaizumi grunted softly, then nuzzled his nose into Oikawa's hair. "Mirai..." He breathed out.

Oikawa stilled. His blood running cold in his veins and his breath caught in his throat.

"C'mon don't stop, baby." Iwaizumi mumbled out behind him and only now Oikawa realized that Iwa was still asleep, obviously having some wet dream of his ex girlfriend.

"Fuck." Oikawa tried to ignore the pain in his chest as he gently removed himself from Iwaizumi's embrace and sped to the bathroom, jumping into the shower nearly immediately.

He didn't know why, he didn't understand it, but he felt the warm stream of tears run down his cheeks to join the water of the shower and he wept quietly to himself as he bathed. 

He took his time showering, then spent another half hour styling his hair  _just right_ , trying to focus on the simple, mundane tasks he did everyday instead of confronting why he felt so upset.

This was a weakness. He was being weak.

Iwaizumi was his best friend, and now also his fuck buddy. There was never supposed to be anything more between them than that, Oikawa had told himself over and over than nothing would ever,  _could_ ever happen. He cared for Iwa, like, a butt ton, but these feelings for him weren't romantic, only sexual. He wanted Iwa's body to fuck him, not Iwa. It's just how everything worked out. If it was some other guy...

Oikawa furrowed his perfect brows in thought. Maybe if he slept with some other guy he'd stop feeling so obsessed with Iwaizumi and sort out this shitload of emotions currently racing through his bones.

He didn't know if it would do anything, didn't even know if it was worth it. Oikawa wasn't even convinced he was comfortable with it. But it was something that needed to be done.

Because otherwise the tight feeling in his chest would never go away.

And Oikawa hated pain.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty sure insecure Oiks is basically canon let's be real.  
> Also that's just how I've always kinda imagined him.
> 
> Already about halfway through this series, thanks for everyone's support, it's really appreciated!


	5. Hell

“Alright, boys, all I ‘ave to say is go play one hell’ve a game. Ishida,” Their coach turns to their setter, “watch their middle’s, they’re quick blockers so you’ll need to move your ‘itters around a lot. Same with their lib, he’s phenomenal so outside’s ‘it line not cross, if possible. That’s up to you, Ishida, don’t let them force us anywhere. Takeda,” He turns to their libero, who’s jumping up and down with devious excitement, “shut ‘em down.”

“You got it boss.”

“Everyone else,” He looks up into each players eyes with a crinkled half smile, “give ‘em hell.”

They let out a huge, guttural cheer, slapping each other on the shoulders like animals until they hear the other team across the court bellow out their own chant and an announcer’s coming on the loudspeakers, drowning out the deafening noise of the crowd.

It’s a huge stadium, certainly fit for a world league game. The springy red and teal floor waiting invitingly to be marked with the spray of sweat and the pounding of court shoes. Waist-high boards line the outside, displayed with logos and signs of sponsors of the event. Camera crews hover like crows in every direction, and a giant screen hangs suspended to the high ceiling for spectators. Around the entire outside, atop an elevated wall that rises above the court like the stands in a colosseum, is jam-packed to the brim with cheering spectators of all nationalities.

It’s quite the sight to behold.

And Oikawa can hardly believe he’s a part of it.

The announcer calls out the refs - the First Referee and the Second Referee, both from different countries, and they make their ways to opposite sides of the net accordingly. Then the players on the starting lineup are announced, and with each player an eruption of cheers ensues as they spring to the endline and wave to the crowd.

In all honesty, Oikawa is almost just content with sitting back and watching for the first twenty minutes of gameplay, intrigued with the insanely fast level of play, the trickiness of the setter’s decision making, the way the crowd shakes the building when someone makes a huge hit. It’s incredible, and it makes Oikawa want to be out there playing with every passing point. Wanting to take control of the game for himself, to show everyone that he can do it, too.

But then, he frowns to himself.

_Can_ he do it? He can’t possibly be able to hold his own against these guys. Oikawa wasn’t good enough, he wasn’t tall enough, he hadn’t had enough practice at this fast level of play.  His sets weren’t quick enough, he wasn’t sneaky enough, he wasn’t supportive enough. He wasn’t even that _good_ at setting, and without that, what help would he be.

He started to feel his shoulders sag and a tightness gripped his chest with suffocating force and he couldn’t even make himself watch his teammates play. Not the screams of the crowd or the shrill blow of the whistle or the calls of his team could break him from his slump. In fact, the only thing that actually managed to get through to him was when none other than Kageyama Tobio yelled something inherently stupid in support after their team lost a point to a huge stuff block.

“This is pretty cool, hey, Tobio.” Oikawa teased and Kageyama scowled. “I bet you’re all star struck by the tall people, hm. Poor Tobio, being short is for libero’s not setter’s, _idiot_.” He stuck his tongue out with a taunting wink.

Kageyama clenched his fists and glared at him from the corner of his eye, but didn’t dare say anything. Most likely because most things that came out of his mouth were incoherent garbage. But hey, Oikawa didn’t judge (much) he just loved teasing the poor, awkward kid with such deadly humour he wasn’t sure how he hadn’t been punched yet. If it were Iwaizumi-…

“-kawa! Ay, Oikawa!” His coach’s raspy yell broke him from his thoughts and he glided over to the bench where his coach sat waiting for him. “I want you t’ go in for Ishida after we win this point, he’s serving next. We’ve got a big enough lead so I’ll let you handle the gameplay for a little bit. Their outside’s a weak blocker, he’s got little weeny wrists like a twig, so use your right-side as much as possible.”

The whistle tweeted and a wave of cheers erupted from the stands. Oikawa perked up, suddenly his palms were sweaty and his breathing was more shallow. What was this— Was he _nervous?_

“Go get ‘em, kid. Show ‘em what yer made of.”

Oikawa grabbed Ishida’s number and went to the bottom ref, requesting a substitution. When Ishida noticed, he ran over, giving Oikawa a reassuring pat on the back and a casual ruffle of his hair. But as Oikawa stepped onto the court, he had never once in his entire life, felt so tiny and so exposed. Lights shone down on him from all directions, eyes watched him from every angle, and his teammates towered over him like trees.

It was intimidating as all fuck.

He faked a smile at his teammates when they tousled his hair and slapped him on the shoulder, making his way to the endline where he picked up a ball rolled to him from the sideline, and waited for the ref to make the signal.

Then the whistle sounded, starting the next play, and Oikawa felt like things moved in slow motion.

His serve had always been powerful, honed to perfection from hours upon hours of relentless practice since middle school. In college-level play, it was beyond ordinary, something that each opposing team always picked out as one of his major strengths. But in _this_ level of play? Was he even good enough, or would they pick it up easily without a second thought.

From the moment the ball left his fingers, Oikawa knew it would miss.

It rolled too far forward, spinning with too much momentum and he adjusted his footing to make it there in time. His body felt awkward and foreign, stiff and cold. He’d done this serve a million times, he could do it in his sleep or in pitch darkness. And yet…

The ball hit the net, falling unceremoniously to the floor.

Oikawa watched it, struck with fear and anger at himself, while his teammates shrugged it off like nothing had happened. He clenched his jaw.

And then another tweet of the whistle sounded and Oikawa looked to see Ishida waiting on the sideline, Oikawa’s number in hand.

He was being subbed out. Immediately.

 

*

 

“Hey man, we saw your game!” The loud voice of Bokuto screeches over the crowd exiting the building. Oikawa had just finished up with his interviews, all of them asking about what it was like to play on the world stage, if he was excited for this season, and of course…

The athletes are sheltered behind a line of metal fences, fans and curious spectators lean over, getting into the player’s faces and begging for autographs and pictures. Unsurprisingly, nearly everyone’s focus was on Oikawa. He’d never fake-smiled so much in his life, and that was saying something, because recently the only thing he’d been able to do is fake it.

He was disappointed in himself, how he’d fucked up in his first chance to play. Granted, his coach gave him another in the next game, but it didn’t help quell the burning jealousy in his heart when Kageyama got his own chance as well. Sure, their team fucking destroyed that game, and sure, Kageyama can hold his own out there, but so could Oikawa. The only reason he was getting more interviews afterwards was because one, Oikawa was hotter, and two, Kageyama wasn’t on the official roster.

It still didn’t make a difference in the end though, he still was jealous, he still wanted to be better, and he still lacked the confidence to make that truly happen.

So he turned to his teammates, who had elbowed their way forcefully through the crowd to the fencing and presented another fake smile at them, hiding the big mess of emotions he couldn’t untangle underneath.

“Yahoo! Hey guys!” He chirped and rushed over to where Bokuto, Akaashi, and Kuroo led the team. “Do you want my autograph, too?”

“I already got your lib’s, jesus fuck, that guy’s good, but still not as good as me, right Akaashi?” Bokuto raved shamelessly and Akaashi replied with a dull “Yes, Bokuto.”

Kuroo was uncharacteristically mesmerized by the sheer size of the giants who walked around Oikawa, and _he_ suddenly felt really small in comparison.

“Were you nervous?” Akaashi questioned, his sharp eyes digging deep into Oikawa’s flesh like razor blades.

Oikawa laughed and scratched the back of his head. “Oh, Akaashi, I’m never nervous!”

“Hm.”

“You sure looked nervous when you got shown up by a kid, though.” Kuroo smirked evilly.

“Mean! I did not!”

“It’s okay, that kid’s good as hell, man. My high school team played his before.”

“Tobio is a little baby! And he’s short too, right Tobio.” Oikawa grabbed Kageyama’s arm and pulled him into the conversation, suddenly in complete shock as he looked up into the eyes of his crazy teammates.

“Huh- huh- hi.” He finally managed and Oikawa smiled like he knew a dirty little secret. This kid’s buttons could be pushed almost _too_ easily.

“Hey, hey, kid, I’m Bokuto! This is Akaashi, and this fine piece of meat is Kuroo.” Bokuto, of course, was the first to speak. “We play with Oikawa for school ball.”

“Nuff- nice.”

Bokuto quirked an eyebrow.

“You’re setting is really amazing for just being out of high school, I’m really impressed.” Akaashi monotoned and Kageyama blushed a little bit. Akaashi narrowed his eyes.

“You’re hot.” Kuroo smirked. And that pushed Kageyama over the edge, his face went about as red as a firetruck, his hands fisted at his sides, and his eyes darted down to the ground in embarrassment.

“Thanks, but I got someone.” He said.

_“Shame.”_ Kuroo teased.

“Oh, _Tobio_ , you didn’t tell me that! How could you lead me on all this time, you meanie!” Oikawa gasped and took a half step back and batted at Kageyama’s arm.

“What— I—?”

“Stop killing the poor kid, Oikawa.” Akaashi mumbled and blinked tiredly.

Bokuto pressed a hand over Akaashi’s face and leaned over the guard rail. “Hey, kid! What school do you play for?” Kuroo pinched Bokuto’s ass and he jumped back. Akaashi glared fiery holes into the side of Kuroo’s skull.

“I play for—”

“Tobio!” Oikawa sang and wrapped his arms around one of Kageyama’s, “There’s a cute little orange haired dumb dumb calling your name!”

Kageyama’s head whipped around, but no one he recognized was in sight and he huffed grumpily.

“Oh speaking of that-” Akaashi was cut off by Kuroo.

“A fucking hot hunk of ass was brooding in the stands with us while you played. Someone you know _very well_.”

“Fucking hot hunk of ass?” Akaashi mumbled under his breath in exasperation.

“He got so worked up when you got subbed off too, I thought I’d have to go over and fight him just in case, but you know…” Bokuto offered.

Oikawa narrowed his eyes. “Wha— Who?”

All three of his teammates spoke in unison. 

“Iwaizumi.”

Time stilled. Everything muted. Oikawa stopped breathing.

He briefly wondered if pain in your heart was an added side effect to hearing that name, since it’s been happening more and more frequently as of late. But at that moment, all Oikawa could think about was the _joy_ and _relief_ and _giddiness_ that blew up in his chest like fireworks when he realized _Iwa came to watch him play_. It shouldn’t be that big a deal, he knew that. He shouldn’t feel this excited about his best friend, who’d played with him before, coming to watch. Maybe it was the comfort that just _knowing_ Iwa had been thinking about him that made his heart flutter. And suddenly, he was _proud_ of himself and that he’d played today, because that meant Iwa saw him. He _wanted_ Iwa to watch him play, he _wanted_ to show Iwa what he was best at. He didn’t know why.

But this realization racked his body like an earthquake, shattering his facade planted over his face and he felt tears welling up in his eyes because _Iwa was here_.

“Whoa, shit, man. Calm down.” Kuroo said with mild concern but mostly a knowing glint in his eyes.

“Sorry— Sorry.” Oikawa sputtered and wiped the tears running over his cheeks like overflown rivers. “I’m not— I just—”

Kageyama looked up at him awkwardly then glanced around just as stiffly to see if anyone in the crowd had noticed. Which they had. Because everyone’s new favourite player was having a breakdown immediately after a game, and this didn’t look good to the media. 

Oikawa didn’t notice the cameras that zoomed in on his face, or his coach and team staff trying to usher him away and out of view, because all Oikawa could feel was the burn of warm tears that refused to stop falling. He rubbed and rubbed but nothing would help. His shoulders felt heavy and his chest was tight.

And yet, as incredibly overwhelmed with emotions as he was now, he was also just as happy. Which was a little concerning, to say the least.

He didn’t want to talk about it. Not when his coach or his new teammates gently prodded him for answers. He just couldn’t bring himself to. Honestly it could have been that Oikawa didn’t understand it himself, but the alleviation of the incredible weight that was briefly lifted from his conscious had returned tenfold, and for reasons he just couldn’t comprehend. He didn’t know if this was about the game, or stress, or Iwaizumi, but something was different now and he couldn’t pinpoint what. 

So when the game had long since finished and the event organizers were packing up shop for the night, forcing the team and Oikawa to leave in lower spirits than before, Oikawa was still conflicted.

He couldn’t pinpoint it. Something was different.

Those words drifted around in his brain like a forgotten memory, right on the cusp of realization yet further out of reach than anything he’d faced before. He wanted to jump high, reach up and snatch it out of the abyss. To finally have some understanding of himself and his feelings that he’d almost forgotten entirely in the chaotic mess that was his life. He was so close, _so close_ to this insight that it felt like he might get sucked into his thoughts whole, drifting around in the nothingness and being stabbed with the icy shards of glass that teased him into infinity.

But those thoughts wouldn’t come clear, because Oikawa wasn’t ready to accept the harsh truths of reality.

The team was going out that night in celebration of the start of a new competition season, and Oikawa forced his fake smile back on his lips. He drank way too much and danced way too hard and he didn’t really _enjoy_ any of it. Because something was missing, like the final piece of a thousand piece puzzle. And as always, in times like these, when Oikawa can’t think rationally and is _scared_ of the taunting thoughts of his own mind, he thinks with his dick first. Which is exactly what he’d done.

He was drunk as all fuck, stumbling around, barely able to form a coherent sentence. It was no surprise to anyone when a larger man, bulging with muscle and dark hair came up behind him on the dance floor and more or less dry fucked him right then and there. Most of his teammates didn’t even know he was gay until then, but the way Oikawa ground his hips seductively back against the larger man’s, the way he inhaled his breath like a drug and fluttered his eyelids when they moved was enough evidence in itself.

None of his teammates recognized the man he danced with, but Oikawa seemed to be really fond of him, so when they left together no one batted an eye.

It wasn’t until Oikawa made it home that he realized his mistake. In the darkness of the club, with alcohol raging through his veins like liquid fire, he never really did get a good look at the man’s face. He only realized what he’d done when the hot body was being ripped off him where they were grinding up against the wall outside of his and Iwa’s white picket-fenced house. He opened his eyes heavily, tiredly, just wanting to get fucked and be over with it when he saw out on the grass, not one, but _two_ Iwa’s. They were crawling all over each other, beating each other into the dirt like animals, the crack of fists rang in the night air and Oikawa’s knees dropped to the porch when his body refused to hold itself up any longer. He only barely registered the sound of Iwa’s deep, seductive voice yelling harsh words chalk full of colourful language then he was racing to Oikawa’s side, holding him against his strong chest like a baby and pressing a soft kiss against his hair while he _seethed_.

“Iwa? Mmm, c’mere les’ get back t’ business.” He giggled and his lips chased Iwa’s scowling face like an addiction.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Iwaizumi spat out, only barely containing his rage under a concerned mask, because fucking hell he was pissed. Not that Oikawa would notice that when he was plastered like a lightweight, scarcely able to form coherent thoughts let alone _voice_ them.

Oikawa just noticed the blood that beaded down Iwaizumi’s brow, the stain of red that covered his fists and the angry expression that etched deep lines into his handsome face.

“Iwa… Wha’ happened.” Oikawa reached thin fingers to wipe at the blood near his eyebrow, just to test if it was actually _real_ or just all in his head. But Iwaizumi grabbed his hand and closed his eyes while he held it to his shaking lips.

“I’m sorry— I’m sorry.” He chanted hot breath onto Oikawa’s palm, pressing tiny little kisses to each one of his fingers before he looked back into dark chocolatey eyes.

“Whas going on, why’re y’ sad.” Oikawa blinked owlishly and cupped a sharp cheekbone with his held hand. “‘m here, Iwa. ‘m here.”

Iwaizumi sighed and shut his eyes once again. Then with a quick glance over his shoulder and a groan as he got up from his kneeling position, he effortlessly pulled Oikawa up into his arms and carried him inside the house.

“So y’ still wanna fuck?” Oikawa giggled and tried turning Iwa’s chin in his direction, but the stubborn man wouldn’t yield.

“No, you’re going to sleep. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He said tenderly, like he were speaking to a child. Which Oikawa sure as hell could’ve been with his lack of thought at that moment. When they reached Oikawa’s room, Iwaizumi set him gently on the bed, pulling his clothes off him (with a stressful amount of effort) and replaced them with something more comfortable. Then he ran off, grabbing a glass of water and some Advil, and made him down a whole glass before tucking him into bed. With a refilled glass and a couple pills on his bedside table, Oikawa smiled widely from under his blankets, like a child waking up on christmas morning, as he gazed into Iwaizumi’s conflicted face.

“You don’ wanna stay?” Oikawa hummed and squirmed down into the heat of his bed as his drained body became overwhelmed with sleep.

“Not tonight.” Iwaizumi mumbled. 

Oikawa didn’t see it, but Iwaizumi’s eyes warmed as they landed on his sleeping face. He didn’t hear it, but Iwaizumi’s heart thumped like a caged lion against his ribs. And he didn’t feel it, but relief spread through Iwaizumi’s veins like wildfire when he knew Oikawa was safe and sound.

“‘Kay.” Was all Oikawa managed before he was snoring softly, completely limp and unconscious to the world in an instant.

But before Iwaizumi left, he brushed the hair from Oikawa’s forehead, tucking it back behind an ear and placing a gentle lingering kiss to his forehead as his eyes started to water ever so slightly.

For Oikawa, it was one of the best sleeps he’d gotten in a long time. And for Iwaizumi, it was one of the worst.

 

*

 

Even though he had slept like a baby, waking up proved to be a whole different story.

Firstly, his mouth and throat were dry all the way down to his stomach, feeling like tissue was flaking off into dust when he desperately tried to swallow. Luckily for him, there was a very convenient glass of water from the heavens perched on his bedside table which he greedily drank up, until he needed more and he swung his legs out of bed.

Secondly, his head felt like it was imploding as it throbbed like a ticking time bomb. Immediately when he tried sitting up from his pillow, his brain told him no, but his body told him yes and suddenly the mixed signals were making him confused and his stomach twisted into knots.

And finally, as he gracelessly swayed on his feet, feeling the floor tremble under his weight and give birth to mountains and canyons outside his bedroom, all thought were lost as he sprinted to his bathroom to puke out his stomach into the toilet.

He was a fucking wreck. He didn’t remember _anything_ from the night before. He barely remembered even going out in the first place. It made him crawl in his skin, that he hadn’t been in control of his body, and knowing _himself_ that was not a good thing. He could feel the burn of where unknown hands had touched his skin the night before, the sheen of sweat that coated his body, and the shivers that raced up his spine from— oh wait, nope— he was just sick again.

After thoroughly puking his stomach, his weight, and his pride’s worth out of his system, Oikawa decided the cool floor of the bathroom was more comfortable than going back to bed or getting changed for his class that day. Because _fuck that_.

The only thing that truly got him to move was when his throat started drying up like the desert, coarse sand being forced down his throat and his teeth were poofing into dust particles before his very eyes. 

He carefully ventured downstairs to the kitchen, retrieving a pitcher and a glass and filling both with water before stumbling into the living room to sulk.

“Morning.”

Oikawa jumped, splashing water down the side of the pitcher and across his bare foot and the floor.

“Jesus, Iwa, don’t scare me like that.” He gasped out as he tried to regain his breath from the shock. He stood on one foot and shook the water off the other. Then he joined Iwaizumi on the couch.

Iwa was wearing sweats and a graphic tee that had some rock band Oikawa never heard of blaring across his chest. He was sipping his coffee from a mug and held a book out in front of him where his eyes remained unmoving even when the couch dipped from Oikawa’s added weight.

Oikawa was sitting on the edge of his seat, twiddling his toes across the ground in a little dance and waiting for Iwaizumi to ask him how he was feeling, even if he knew it would never come. Realistically he didn’t need to ask, not when it was most likely Iwaizumi himself that took Oikawa in last night when he was stumbling around in the darkness. He wondered what had happened. Had they fucked? Did Oikawa do anything stupid? Oh, geez, what if he accidentally told Iwaizumi about that one time when-

“How’re you feeling.”

_Oh_.

“Aw, Iwa, how kind of you. I’m feeling pretty shit, honestly. But nothing beats a shower and enough beauty sleep, right?” Oikawa hummed and settled back on the couch with a glass raised to his lips. “Besides I can just have you take notes for me in class, okay, that’s what best friends are for!”

Iwaizumi flinched beside him.

“I’m staying home today, since you obviously can’t take care of yourself.” He grumbled and took another drink from his mug. “I already texted someone else to take notes for us.”

“Huh? But Iwa you don’t have to. I’m not hungover, I’m perfectly fine, see?”

Iwaizumi grunted in amusement. “I’m staying.” He said firmly, and then in a softer tone “I want to stay.”

Oikawa crossed his legs upon the couch and swayed back and forth childishly.

“Does this mean we can fuck all day?” He asked innocently and Iwaizumi was not having any of it. He _glared_ at him over his coffee mug, piercing him with eyes that said ‘who the fuck do you think you are’ then he was returning to his book.

“No.”

“No?”

_“No.”_

Oikawa panicked. Shit, had he done something wrong? Was Iwa mad at him? Was he— He couldn’t be… _bored_ of him, could he? I mean, Oikawa’s used to rejection but the sting of defeat never ceases to amaze him, and a warning would have been appreciated, buddy, before Iwa ripped Oikawa’s heart from his chest like a sacrifice to the gods.

He couldn’t pinpoint it. Something was different.

Those same words from the day before danced in front of him teasingly, wanting him to reach out only to fall over the edge and plummet. Perhaps it was just the pain in his heart as he started to convince himself that Iwaizumi wanted nothing to do with him anymore, that he was just like all the other guys who’ve cast him aside one way or another. He didn’t know how to describe it, but the insurmountable agony that clutched his heart in its taloned grasp was enough for the tears to well up in his eyes, his emotions already reaching a boiling point and just needing an excuse to overflow and _burn_ him.

And burn, they did. The tears that cascaded silently down his cheeks, and the sobs he desperately tried to control unwinding when he felt himself fall deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole. His thoughts running rampant inside his own head, convincing himself of truths that were nowhere close to reality, the tight, anxious feeling in his chest caving in and sagging his shoulders noticeably.

But he was awoken from this mind-numbing hell, when a gentle kiss was placed on his wet cheek and strong arms were wrapping themselves around his shoulders. And he fell apart.

He didn’t know why. Because if Iwaizumi’s body language was telling him anything it was that the thoughts in his head were blatant lies, forming conclusions that had no merit behind them and telling him over and over like a mantra that Iwaizumi didn’t care about him. Which hurt like hell, and not just because they were close friends. He _wanted_ someone to care about him on a deeper level than anything, and _he_ wanted to care about someone else too. He wanted to give himself to someone, mind, body and soul, to place his life in another person’s hands and _live_ to make that person’s life happy.

He couldn’t pinpoint it. Something was different.

Especially the shower of relief that flowed over him when he could feel Iwa’s heart thumping wildly in his chest, when he could feel the ragged breaths of his friend blowing the hair above his ear, and the pressure his arms held him in, like he were something precious, something Iwaizumi couldn’t bear to let go of.

And so it came as a major shock to his system, causing his sobbing to cease and his breath to be held in anticipation when Iwaizumi mumbled, barely audibly against his scalp.

“I’m so sorry.” He said.

Sorry? Sorry for _what?_

Iwa had nothing to be sorry for, unless his brain was right in telling him this was Iwa’s way of letting him go. But for some reason (blame it on how Iwaizumi was holding him tightly like his life depended on it, or how Oikawa was a sucker for affection) he got the gist that this wasn’t entirely true.

“I’ll be better for you, I p-promise.” Iwaizumi sputtered.

“Iwa?” He asked, because he was confused as fuck. “What are you…?”

But he never got an answer. Because as quickly as this brief display of weakness came on, it was gone just as fast. Oikawa felt the pressure of Iwaizumi’s fingertips gently guiding his face to the side, where his lips were captured in a tender embrace. Iwaizumi was warm and full and gentle, like he was kissing a goddess, not a sniffling, whimpering Oikawa. The _emotion_ poured straight through his lips tasted like liquid gold, and Oikawa found himself scared of what this might mean. And yet, as nervous as the kiss made him, it was also so entirely relieving, like the final piece of his thousand piece puzzle had been found, but unable to fit in.

He couldn’t pinpoint it. Something was different.

It was a good different, a relieving different. Something that curled his fingers around Iwaizumi’s chest and pushed himself further into the hesitant and tender heat of the kiss. It was beautiful, and it just felt so… _right_.

And when they parted for air, something had shifted between them, something ethereal, something they couldn’t see with their own eyes. Iwaizumi’s irises glittered with warm promise, adamant curiosity, and something else entirely.

“You taste disgusting, go brush your teeth.” He said humorously, but there was no real bite behind it. Instead, Oikawa was further reassured when Iwaizumi’s hand reached down to fold over his own, and giving a minor squeeze before the moment had ended, and Oikawa was wiping the tear stains off his face with the front of his shirt.

He cleaned himself up. They spend the entire day in sweatpants, hanging out in the living room, doing long-forgotten homework assignments outside on their porch, and Oikawa _felt_ it. He felt what it was like to have comfortable silences, the yearning to be close to another’s body. To be kissed and touched and worshipped like a piece of art, because that’s what his mind was telling him to do to his friend. And suddenly, as if the world flipped upside down, the word _friend_ just wasn’t _enough_.

Because even though he couldn’t pinpoint it, something _was_ different, no matter which way you swung it. For better or for worse. But everything was pointing towards better, as insanely confusing as it may have seemed at the moment. 

Something Oikawa was surprisingly perfectly okay with, because the tangled mess of emotions inside was finally unravelling, and things were finally, _finally_ , starting to fit into place. And now he recognized the pain in his heart for Iwaizumi as something else completely. And at the end of the day, he knew he was okay with it. 

He had always been okay with it, because as cliche as it sounds, it was just meant to be.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oikawa needs some lovin  
> and so does my boy iwaizumi  
> send prayers


	6. More Feelings & Shit

It started with a kiss.

A simple one. Just a chaste, quick kiss on the lips before practice one morning. It was so simple, a fast second and then it was done. But the moment it happened, it dawned on him. 

They don’t _kiss_. Not like this. 

When they kiss it’s only ever during sex; Iwa’s rough hands gripping his hip or his leg or his arm while he pounds into him with borderline _cruelty_ and even then it’s just instinctual. They’ve never kissed that much outside the bedroom, and when they do it’s not something as sweet and tender as a goodbye kiss after breakfast. I mean, _technically_ there was that one time when they cuddled together, and _technically_ there was that one time on the couch. But that wasn’t part of the _things_ they did together. They never said that little kisses were something either of them wanted.

Still, it happened. Oikawa was running late, grabbing an apple off the counter where Iwaizumi was sitting with his coffee and a book (like always in the mornings, or at least when he wasn’t in a sleep coma) when Iwa told him to wait. Then he did it with a quick ‘see you in class’ to accompany. Oikawa’s heart was doing summersaults and he was starting to feel sick because it was just so god damn _sweet_ and _domestic_ that it made him want to cry.

It was just a kiss. He shouldn’t overthink things like that, the stress was bad for his skin. Yet the more he told himself that, the more he found himself not wanting to believe it. Did he _want_ those little kisses in the mornings before practice? Did he want the domestic, simple things, or was it ever only sex he was after? Well, _of course_ , he _wanted_ those things, but the question was did he want that with some other person or did he want that with _Iwa_. He couldn’t unscramble his thoughts no matter how hard he tried. And things had only become more complicated lately, in the most simple, uncomplicated way possible. 

Things were better with Iwaizumi, they hadn’t had sex in like, a week now, and for some reason that was perfectly okay with both of them. Looking back, Oikawa assumed Iwaizumi was telling him that one time on the couch last week that he was tired of Oikawa, and he expected to be thrown away like always. But Iwa proved their friendship trumped whatever friends with benefits thing they had going on before, and that was so utterly sweet to know it made Oikawa _giddy_ at the thought. Iwaizumi put their friendship above all else, and so when things were getting weird between them, he put a stop to the weirdness all at once. 

Which brings us back to the thought that they don’t _kiss._

Not now, _especially_ not now. They’ve only just worked out their boundaries (at least Oikawa assumed they had), and so everything just became a hundred times more confusing when Iwaizumi decided to plant one on him out of the blue like that.

He didn’t understand it, and he wasn’t anywhere _near_ understanding it. So in times like these, when he can’t use his dick as a fallback, he turns to the volleyball court. He had an hour before practice started, and so he pounded ball after ball after ball in frustration over the net. It only made him more frustrated when he’d miss a serve every once in a while, reminding him of his fuck up in the world league game the week before. Practices had been hard and plentiful, he’d been alternating between two and three practices a day, usually two for his school team and one with the national team at the sports facility downtown. And on top of that he had school work and finals coming up, and Oikawa was pretty sure he was balding from the daily circle of stress he was put through. 

Which absolutely, without a doubt, _couldn’t fucking happen_ , because his hair was fucking _gorgeous._

All his crying made him feel fragile and weak, and he started worrying Iwa was being nice to him out of  _pity_ , not because he actually cared or anything. 

Oikawa threw the ball he was holding, stepping his approach and jumping high to meet it in the air with a crack of his palm. The ball went sailing over the net and out the back line, narrowly missing Bokuto who leapt into Akaashi's arms in fear.

"Jesus fuck you almost killed me!" Bokuto screeched indignantly and kept his elbows looped about Akaashi's neck even when the raven dropped his legs back to the floor.

"You weren't going to die, Bokuto." Akaashi monotoned.

"Oh damn! Does Iwaizumi let you spank him like that too?" Kuroo smirked from beside the pair. Oikawa hadn't even noticed they'd come in before.

He placed a hand on his hip and smiled sweetly back. "You're just jealous cause Iwa  _has_ an ass, unlike someone."

"So you mean he doesn't spank you, right."

"Mean!"

"Well I think Oikawa's ass is nice." Bokuto chirped helpfully. Akaashi glared.

"Me too." Oikawa commented.

Akaashi ran a hand over his face. "Why am I friends with you people."

"Because you love us." Kuroo smirked.

"Doubt that."

"But you love  _me_ , right Akaashi?" Bokuto hummed and the raven pried his arms from his neck.

"I'm not dealing with this at fucking 8 am." He grumbled on his way to the change rooms.

"So," Kuroo palmed a stray ball by his feet, ignoring as Bokuto squealed after Akaashi. "How  _is_ Iwaizumi?"

Oikawa bounced his hair. "In bed, you mean?"

Kuroo smiled so wickedly Satan flinched in the underworld. "That too."

"Better than you."

"Aw, now you're just hurting my feelings."

"He's fine." Oikawa picked a ball from the basket and headed back to the endline to make another serve. "We're fine."

Unfortunately Kuroo wasn't as dense as he looked.  _"We're_ fine?"

Oikawa hummed and spun the ball in his fingertips, taking a deep breath before throwing it and making his approach. With another crack the ball went flying straight towards Kuroo, who held out a fist and punched it out of the way before it could hit him.

The raven's cackle rumbled. "Watch it, Oikawa. I almost thought you were actually  _aiming_ for me there."

"Guess I'll just have to keep trying." He smiled innocently.

Kuroo put his hands up defensively. "Hey, hey, if you're not wanting to talk I won't pry. Unless you guys want a threesome then hit me up."

"Sorry, Iwa's only into  _me_." Oikawa boasted. But the minute the words left his lips, he knew it'd been a mistake.

"Ohhh, I get it. Okay, well when you guys get married I expect to be best man. Or bridesmaid. You still bottom, right?"

"Excuse you, when I get married,  _Iwa's_ gonna be--"

"Oh shit you got I'm-Totally-Straight-Iwaizumi to bottom for you? Fuck, man, I'm impressed."

"Um,  _no_ , Iwa didn't--"

"Hey you said it yourself, he has a nice ass, man."

"I don't think I--"

"Whatever, don't tell me all the details or I might be tempted to steal him away just to see for myself."

"Pf, like Iwa'd ever go for  _you_ over  _me_." Oikawa flicked the hair from his eyes and repositioned his hand on his hip. "I mean, have you  _seen_ me?"

"Too much, my friend. Too much."

No matter how hard Oikawa tried to keep his mind from wandering to Iwaizumi that morning at practice, his efforts were all in vain. The sniggers from his teammates weren't helpful either. He couldn't help it. Something just seemed...  _different_ in his relationship with Iwa. Like for a split fragment of time in the past week, they knew what it was like to be comfortable with each other without the constant bickering. But these circumstances had only brought feelings to the surface for Oikawa. Feelings he wasn't sure his broken soul was ready to deal with.

Not that he was given a choice, anyways.

He knew Iwa was trying to be a better friend for him, whatever that might mean, and whatever the reasoning behind it. When he'd approached Iwa, he'd start spewing curses out as he tried to avoid the conversation altogether. That was okay. Whatever. I mean, Oikawa wasn't at all confused by this or anything, so you know, it didn't matter to him that Iwa was being  _nice_ for once on top of it all. Iwaizumi had always been nice in an...  _aggressive_ sort of way. But that was almost normal, Oikawa knew that's just how Iwaizumi showed his love. You know, by punching him and shit. And yes that seems abusive, but after seeing a gentler side of Iwaizumi, Oikawa couldn't help but be intrigued.

Because he _was_ nice, and kind, and gentle. Deep down, under that tough-guy facade. And Oikawa loved it.

The giddy feeling he'd get in his chest was but one example of that. Same with the butterflies in his gut and the heat in his cheeks as Iwa sat down next to him in their lecture later that morning. Oikawa grinned from ear to ear, unconscious to the fact that he looked  _more_ than excited at the arrival of his friend. But instead of ignoring him like Iwa usually did, he returned the smile. Just a tiny one. Private and fleeting, like it was only for Oikawa to see. If he had ovaries they'd surely have exploded at the gesture.

"Hey." Came Iwa's deep voice. Then his attention was being drawn to the notebooks pulled from his bag and a to-go cup being set on his desk. "Vanilla latte, right?"

"Y-Yeah." Oikawa flinched like he'd been flicked in the nose. "Thanks."

They sat in silence as their prof started the lecture down below. Oikawa tasted the latte. Lukewarm. Must be from his usual cafe. He reminded himself to never go there again.

"Iwa?" Oikawa asked when he couldn't contain the confusion anymore.

Iwaizumi hummed in response.

"Why're you being so nice to me?"

His friend shifted around a bit and let out a deep sigh. "I'm not."

Oikawa leaned forward to look him in the eye. Iwa turned his head away with a frown. "Don't lie."

"I'm always like this."

"You've never gotten me coffee before, even when I begged you." Oikawa pointed out. "Remember that one time during our road trip when I was driving and you bought coffee for yourself but not me because you said it was bad for me and--"

"Okay, okay, shut up." Iwaizumi grumbled. "The girl just gave me an extra, that's all."

Oikawa giggled. "You're an awful liar, Iwa." He leaned in closer. "You hate anything but black with two sugar. And I  _know_ it's only two sugar, believe me. You can _tell_  if I ever put an extra sugar in there, I've seen it. It's kinda amazing really--"

"Okay! Fine. I got you a fucking coffee. So what."

"Aw you _do_  care about me, Iwa. So thoughtful!"

"'Course I do."

Oikawa studied him for a long time. "Are you gay, Iwa?"

Iwaizumi's face went red and Oikawa could have sworn he saw a vein burst in his temple.

"I'm not fucking gay, you piece of trash."

Oikawa smiled sweetly. "Just checking."

"Fuck off." Iwaizumi sighed. "You're so fucking irritating. It's not like someone can just _magically_ become gay, you know."

"Oh but Iwa, that's where you're wrong. I've turned lots of guys gay."

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair.

"I'm dangerous, Iwa. I'm like a gay-making machine."

"Well it's a good thing I'm not into guys." Iwa smirked. Oikawa frowned. And then quieter, as if in reassurance. "I'm not into guys."

He took another sip of coffee and cradled the cup with both hands. "I know I've never said it but I'm sorry I wasn't good enough for you, alright?" Oikawa mumbled defeatedly. 

"What?" Iwaizumi stiffened.

"That's why we don't fuck anymore, right? I'm sorry, I could've--"

"Holy shit, why're you blaming yourself?" Iwaizumi snapped. Then he looked around anxiously at their classmates. "Let's talk about this later."

"But you always  _avoid_  this conversation when we're alone. And I just needed to get that off my chest." Oikawa murmured. "You've been so nice to me lately."

"Shit. Oikawa, we're not doing this now."

"It's okay, that's all I wanted to say."

Iwaizumi sighed. "We're talking about this later." He said tersely. "Like after classes and shit."

"I have practice later."

"Fine, then after practice."

"No, like I have double practice, so I won't be home until late."

"Whatever. I'll stay up."

Oikawa opened his mouth to tease him, but he shut it slowly. An involuntary smile played on his lips.

"'Kay."

The rest of the day was pretty standard. With classes done and school practice finished, Oikawa pulled on his sweats and changed his shirt and pushed from the gym doors on his way to the train station. 

Another long ride. Another man or woman eyeing him up for most of it. Another pang of rejection when his mind drifted to Iwa. Fear taking its place when he thought of their conversation earlier that day.

Oikawa knew it wouldn't hurt so much if he hadn't let himself get attached. That was always his rule. Never get attached, and it'll never hurt afterwards.

It's kind of ironic, really, that the thing Oikawa's broken soul craved most was affection, yet his whole life he'd been hellbent on avoiding it. It was kind of disgusting, too. To think that he'd willingly given his body up to so many people, just to feel like he had some sort of self worth in life.

He'd always wanted to be better than everyone else. Always trying to  _stay_ at the top, not just reach it. His desire for perfection was driving him insane, and it was mostly due to his utter lack of self confidence. Or perhaps it was the perfection piece, after all. He couldn't really tell anymore.

But one thing was for certain.

Oikawa felt lost.

And these new  _feelings_ he'd discovered for Iwa only added to his pile.

He  _knew_ something was wrong the very second time he'd had sex with Iwa. Because Oikawa didn't do that, going back for more. He also didn't do friends with benefits. And of  _course_ it  _had_ to be Iwa that he'd developed these feelings for. These  _feelings_ that he was scared of because he didn't understand them.

His tangled bunch of emotions were entwining back together inside. Anxiety rose in his chest and thoughts were placed into his head. He couldn't make sense of his feelings for Iwaizumi any more than he could rocket surgery, and unfortunately the two seemed more closely related than he thought. Because what if this all blew up in his face? What if Iwa would laugh at him for feeling this way? And the fact still stood that Iwa wasn't gay. He wasn't into guys, and he wasn't into Oikawa, at least he'd made that part very clear. So how did Oikawa ever think Iwa would change for him. That maybe,  _just maybe_ , Iwa felt more for Oikawa than just friendship too.

Cause seriously. Life was fucking cruel, and Oikawa didn't expect anything less from it. His faith in love was destroyed along with his innocence years ago, ripped from him without a second thought and tossed to the wind like an unwanted page from his life's book.

But he was promptly awoken from his endless train of thought as he pushed open a steel set of doors. His feet had carried him to the sports facility and to court six just like they did everyday. At first glance he believed the gym to be empty, until the irritating suction sound of a straw in an empty box gurgled to his right.

Fucking Kageyama Tobio drinking (was that milk?) from a box like a  _child_. Poetic. And very fitting indeed.

Oikawa grinned wickedly. "Yahoo! Tobio!" He skipped over and plopped on the bench next to the raven. Kageyama gulped down the last of his drink and narrowed his eyes in greeting (probably not actually in greeting, because let's be honest, who greets someone by narrowing their eyes at them? No, Oikawa just liked to  _pretend_ it was in greeting, because that made Kageyama at least a little more tolerable, thank you very much).

"You're early for once!" Oikawa chirped as he kicked off his sliders and pushed into his court shoes. "Still trying to surpass me, I see. Well, I'm sorry, Tobio, but no one can do that I'm just too--"

"I want you to coach me."

Oikawa froze. "Eh?"

"How to serve like you." Kageyama's face twisted up in concentration, or constipation, or something, Oikawa couldn't put his finger on it. "And strategy for setting." Kageyama added. "Please."

"Excuse you, I--"

"I came early because I know you always come early. I want to get better, just like you." Kageyama swallowed his pride. And shockingly, Oikawa couldn't find it in himself to tease the raven about it. Maybe it was because he caught him on a particularly tender day. Or maybe Oikawa just appreciated someone's  _honesty_   _for once._ He couldn't really be certain.

And yet, Oikawa could see it. The admiration in this boy's eyes when he looked at him. Like he saw Oikawa as the epitome of human potential, which is kinda strange, because Oikawa was about as far from that as anything. But something about Kageyama's naivety and innocence sank the teasing remarks in his throat. Something about how the boy had finally swallowed his pride and admitted to him that Oikawa was better. It was kinda impressive.

"You don't want to be like me." The words came out before the thought had even formed and Oikawa turned his head away to avoid the look of confusion given to him by Kageyama.

"B-But I do." Kageyama struggled.

Oikawa sighed, pulling his knee brace into place. He rested his forearms on his thighs as he hesitated, defeated. Then his smile was back on his face by the time he spoke.

"Fine." He grinned wickedly. "But don't think you'll ever get to be as good as me, Tobio. Otherwise you'd take my spot on the national team." Then he stood and walked into the court. But with his back turned, he missed the excitement, the gratitude, and the respect that shone through Kageyama's eyes at his words. He missed the way Kageyama smiled (or tried to, at least) in his shock at being recognized by a player he admired such as Oikawa. What he didn't miss, however, was the way their distant, hateful rivalry seemed to melt away by his response. They had finally recognized each other for their abilities and were able to move on, and that was something Oikawa never dreamed would have happened. Or that he really considered he cared about for that matter. And yet, now that it had been done, he felt relief flash flood his entire system. The competitiveness was still there, sure, but the spite was gone. Things were finally on the up swing.

Or at least that's what Oikawa thought as he tiredly made his way home after practice. Because as always, reality came crashing down when he reached for the handle of his and Iwa's little house. The door swung open from the inside, revealing honey-blonde hair and a plastered mask of makeup. And that smirk, that  _god awful_ shit-eating smirk that spread wider as large eyes latched onto Oikawa's.

"Mirai? W-What--?"

But Mirai was brushing past him, leaving Oikawa alone and confused in the doorway.

And just like that, he felt his carefully healing heart shatter.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long time no see o/  
> i hope you enyoyed


	7. Pain & Suffering & All the Good Stuff

_Things were finally on the up swing._

_Or at least that's what Oikawa thought as he tiredly made his way home after practice. Because as always, reality came crashing down when he reached for the handle of his and Iwa's little house. The door swung open from the inside, revealing honey-blonde hair and a plastered mask of makeup. And that smirk, that god awful shit-eating smirk that spread wider as large eyes latched onto Oikawa's._

_"Mirai? W-What--?"_

_But Mirai brushed past him, leaving Oikawa alone and confused in the doorway._

 

*

 

Oikawa stilled, the pain in his chest spreading like an icy wind until he was frozen solid. He didn't want to look behind him as Mirai skipped victoriously away, he didn't want to look into the house yet either. He was stuck in place like a cornered animal, knowing that whatever he sees next will only add to the hurt, that it will only kill him inside more so.

But he had to do something, because standing here looking so goddamn heartbroken about watching Mirai leave their house shouldn't be happening in the first place. The fact that it hurt this so much convinced himself that it was his own fault for making this happen, for feeling what he was feeling. He'd promised himself he wouldn't get attached, he'd told himself over and over that he could separate his feelings while having sex, and he'd been rather successful with that until he'd become exclusive with Iwa. That he was only after Iwa's body to use as a plaything and not Iwa specifically. He'd always told himself he was in control, which now he realized he was and always had been far from it.

What shocked him the most was the realization that his feelings for Iwa were perhaps even stronger than he'd originally thought. That maybe all the little things that'd been happening recently, over the past few weeks of knowing him more intimately, and over the years of knowing him like he knew himself, maybe sometime during all of that time Oikawa had confused his feelings completely. Perhaps he'd never solely been drawn to Iwaizumi as just a friend or a person to use. 

These thoughts were only reinforced as his throat tightened and his eyes burned with fresh tears. He'd frozen and cracked, knowing that the moment he stepped inside he'd shatter into dust. The door was hanging open, enough space to see the lowly lit lights from the living room.

Oikawa wanted to run. He wanted to hide. He didn't want to deal with his feelings for Iwa any more than he wanted to see the evidence of Iwa and Mirai's time together. The memories that flooded back to him from before they'd broken up, the gasps and moans and words of affection that left Mirai's lips, that leaked through the thin walls of their home. The jealousy that raged in Oikawa's gut and the petty need to, himself, send those moans back to Iwaizumi tenfold. All of that bickering and teasing, all the years of clinging to Iwaizumi's side like a leach. Oikawa knew all he'd ever wanted was for Iwaizumi to pay attention to him. To see him as he was and want him as he stands. To know that Oikawa wasn't perfect as he so loved to portray himself, that he was weak and needed support, and that he wanted Iwaizumi to be the one to stand by him regardless. They'd always been best friends, but now that he thought about it, had Oikawa ever seen it as that? 

Iwaizumi was powerful, tempting and unforgiving. But he was strong and independent, qualities that Oikawa had always lacked but always admired. He was kind beneath his gruff appearance, he was gentle with his large hands. He kissed with passion and desire, never the cold impassiveness Oikawa always tried to maintain. He trusted Oikawa with himself,  _all_ of himself, metaphorically naked as much as physically so. And now that Oikawa thought about it he couldn't be more terrified.

But while Iwaizumi was everything for Oikawa, he knew he couldn't be held with the same importance to someone like Iwaizumi. Because he was just... Oikawa. He was weak and provocative and malicious. He was petty and dramatic. He was mean and cold and impersonal beneath his seductive appearance, drawing people in only to break their hearts in an instant. But he trusted Iwaizumi with himself, placed all the dumb awfulness that constituted his entire being into Iwaizumi's hands, learning only now that it was never Iwaizumi's intention to hold him close, but to crush him in an iron grip.

With his heart broken more times than he could count from Iwaizumi, Oikawa knew that whatever this was had been the final blow. There was nothing salvageable from the jagged pieces inside, nothing but the suffering that showed so plainly on his face. Iwaizumi didn't need to say anything to him, because ever since they started sleeping together his actions have hurt harder than words ever could. At first Oikawa didn't understand it, but now knowing what he felt for Iwa wasn't simply attraction it gave clarity to all the confusion before.

Steadying his breath, he pushed the door open with a creak. He heard a curse from the living room.

"I  _told_ you to fucking leave before Oikawa--"

Oikawa paused, the stickiness in his throat making it impossible to breathe. His cheeks stained red with the trails of wet tears.

"Oikawa..." Iwaizumi's eyes were filled with fear, his chest heaved heavily under a dishevelled shirt, his face red and flustered. Even his hair had been mussed up, from his own hands or someone else's Oikawa couldn't be sure.

Oikawa pressed his lips into a wistful frown, nodding his head as his gaze fell to the floor. Then he was walking upstairs to his room, barely registering the desperate words falling from Iwaizumi's mouth, barely hearing as the man himself thundered up behind him. A hand grabbed his wrist and Oikawa stopped.

 _"Please."_ He heard from behind, words thick with emotion. "Tooru let me explain--  We didn't-- I wouldn't--"

Oikawa turned slowly, feeling the pain in his eyes rise to the surface. The hurt of knowing Iwaizumi slept with Mirai. The pain of Oikawa himself been used and discarded like a toy. The deadly truth that despite Oikawa ever having feelings for Iwaizumi he could never get them in return. The fact that in the end, Oikawa was just the trash that Iwaizumi had always told him he was. 

"Let me go." Oikawa murmured heavily, eyes alight with something akin to rage despite his impassive demeanour. But Iwaizumi didn't waver, studying Oikawa like he could physically  _see_ all the unintentional pain he'd caused. And if Oikawa hadn't felt so goddamn empty inside, he would've been almost surprised to see the concern and helplessness and longing read so openly on Iwaizumi's face.

"No."

Oikawa stiffened. His face contorting murderously. 

"Haven't you hurt me enough!? Can't you see what you  _do_ to me!?" Oikawa spat, snarling as Iwaizumi's eyes widened in shock. "All these years, all these months of us together and you've never once thought that maybe I'm hurting too? I'm not a plaything, Iwa, I never wanted to be." He scowled, his eyes burning holes through Iwaizumi's facade, pretending the shock and pain he saw there was just a part of his act. "Now  _let me go."_

And Iwaizumi let go like he'd touched fire. His mouth searching for words that never came, that would've fallen on deaf ears as Oikawa slammed his bedroom door shut with enough force to shake the walls. Then he fell onto his bed, the tears and the cries of agony muffled by the bedsheets.

 

*

 

Oikawa threw himself into volleyball more than he'd ever in his life. Which is saying something seeing as he'd had to bring himself up from the ground with his own hard work to claim a spot on the national team in the first place. But honestly, Oikawa just felt empty, like a piece of him had been lost. He searched the court for answers, hit the ball with all the residing anger inside of him, practiced over and over until his knees turned black and his limbs too heavy to move.

It didn't even seem to be paying off either, at every practice he'd been slower to react, messing up passes or serves or sets that he'd drilled into himself like a second nature. Eventually after one particularly bad school practice, his coach told him to take the rest of the day off from training, and later at his national team practice his coach had asked him what was wrong. Of course, he'd just put on his mask and waved off the question, acting like it was silly of him to even consider Oikawa wasn't feeling it today, everything volleyball had ever taught him about putting on a brave face for the sake of other people. His coach had frowned, but didn't say anything further.

He'd been staying with Kuroo and Kenma ever since his and Iwaizumi's fight, and they've been nothing but supportive and comforting to him. Even Kenma, who had a tendency to be rather blunt at times learned to hold his tongue when Oikawa needed him to, not wanting to consider an ulterior truth to this whole mess. He hadn't seen Iwaizumi in class, not that he sat in their usual seats in the auditoriums anyway. And after three days of moping, Kuroo sat down with him, trying to pry through his heavily fortified walls.

"I know you're hurting Oikawa, but we can't help you if you don't let us in." Kuroo asked, uncharacteristically gentle. Oikawa cradled his mug, a smirk pasted on his face but his eyes were dull, the only indication that there was something more at work beneath the surface.

"You have a boyfriend now, surely he wouldn't want to catch us together like last time." Oikawa sneered and Kuroo frowned and shook his head, disappointed, sad.

"You know what I mean, it doesn't have to be this way anymore, we can help you get through this if you'll let us."

"Oh please, suck my dick any harder and I might come." Oikawa chuckled colourlessly, turning his head to look out at the street below. "There's nothing to talk about, anyway. Iwa and I just had an argument, that's all."

Kuroo stared at him long and hard. "You've never reacted like this when you guys have fought before though." He'd know, he'd seen it enough times in their few years knowing each other. But he also knew they made up really quickly, if not through violent means, and besides, he knew Oikawa had never been truly upset with Iwaizumi before. Definitely nothing to this degree. "Did something happen? Did he... He didn't like... touch you without you wanting it or something, right?"

Oikawa scoffed and chuckled again, an empty sound that hurt to hear. "Oh I've always wanted it, that's been clear to me since the start."

Kuroo let out a sigh of relief.

"It's just..." Oikawa continued. "He never wanted me back... At least not me personally."

Kuroo broke the heavy silence that settled between them. "You never did get around to setting boundaries, did you?"

"No we did, at least for what he wanted." Oikawa smiled softly to himself. "It was always what he wanted."

"Sounds like a dick move."

"Yeah."

Kuroo hummed, the leather couch squeaking under his weight as he relaxed a little. Oikawa sipped his tea.

"What did you want? With him, I mean." Kuroo asked hesitantly and Oikawa found himself not wanting to turn around and see the pity in his eyes. He didn't want to see someone who had it all, with a perfect relationship and a perfect boyfriend, console him like a crying child. Oikawa frowned, feelings his walls start to build up again.

"I wanted a quick fuck, that's all." He vaguely heard himself say, but even the words felt like ash on his tongue, they sounded like obvious lies to Kuroo's face. Kuroo was smart, Oikawa knew he could tell that wasn't the complete truth.

"But has that ever actually made you happy?" Kuroo asked lowly.

Oikawa licked his lips, he couldn't lie for once. "No."

Kuroo sighed, heavy and tired. "Why do you do this to yourself, Oikawa? You know things don't always have to be like this for you, you _can_ be happy, you know. It's not impossible." Kuroo replied. "What would make you happy? Being with Iwaizumi like this? _Used?_ That's not happiness, Oikawa, at least not for you, it never has been."

"I  _know,_ okay? I get it, I'm stupid and masochistic and looking for trouble. But I can't help it, Iwa's different than anyone I've been with before. I  _feel_ different with him than with anyone else, alright? He just..." Oikawa disclosed, his voice thick with misery. "... doesn't feel the same about me."

Kuroo ran a hand over his face as Oikawa looked over at him pleadingly.

"You've got to let him go." Kuroo pressed. "This pain won't go away if you don't stop loving him."

Oikawa scoffed. "I don't love him like that."

"No? Then why is this so hard for you because that's the only explanation I can think of." Kuroo rolled his eyes halfheartedly. "Honestly, man, stop sticking your head up your ass, it's not a crown."

"Mean."

"Seriously... if it hurts this badly and Iwaizumi's not willing to change, then the decision's kinda made for you."

"I know, I just... I don't know."

"Weren't things going well for you earlier? I thought you two were, like, taking the next step kinda thing..."

Oikawa chuckled fruitlessly. "It  _was_."

"Then you fought? That's it?"

Oikawa's eyes hardened, his jaw set. "I caught him with his ex." Oikawa mumbled, feeling the bile that rose in his throat at the thought of that one awful night. Mirai's victorious smirk. Iwaizumi's fearful eyes. The raw pain in his chest. "Then we fought, not for long. Iwa obviously didn't put up much of a fight for me in the end, I guess after everything I still didn't mean anything to him."

"Ah."

"I'm so..." Oikawa sniffled. "...  _frustrated."_

"That's understandable."

"It makes me want to punch him. Or-- Or  _scream_ , or something!"

"And you have every right to."

"I just wish things went differently. I wish I could still hold him and  _be_ with him." Oikawa added quietly. "I think I'll miss that the most."

Kuroo nodded. "I know. But it can't be that way anymore. What you're feeling now? It won't go away if you don't do something about it. And wishful thinking alone never got anyone far."

"Oh please. Kenma practically came crawling into your lap the moment you called. Iwa'd never do that, not even close." Oikawa bit out. "He's probably happy I'm not his problem anymore now."

"Don't say that, you two will come around eventually. You're best friends after all." For whatever reason,  _best friends_ physically pained him to hear. Like a gunshot to the heart. "And don't make things sound perfect between me and Kenma, cause it's not."

Oikawa laughed halfheartedly. "I thought we were talking about  _my_ boy issues right now."

"We are, I just want you to know that perfect, fairytale relationships don't exist, that's all."

"But then..."

Kuroo sighed gently, levelling him with surprisingly somber eyes. "Me and Kenma make it work because we  _want_ to make it work. That doesn't mean we don't fight and shit, we just know that without each other we'd be... lost, I guess."

"Oh..."

You had to  _work_ for love, it didn't come easily. Relationships weren't perfect, and for Oikawa who strove for perfection in everything he did, that was a hard concept to grasp all at once, as simple and logical as it seemed. Maybe they could still come back from this, maybe... maybe Oikawa could learn to be okay with feeling used if it meant he and Iwa could still be friends. Maybe it wasn't that harsh of a price to pay. Or maybe not.

"But..." Kuroo sighed, running a hand over his face in exasperation. "I think your situation's a little different."

"But if I just let him--"

"Don't fucking waste yourself on someone who doesn't want you for  _you,_ Oikawa. Iwaizumi may be your friend but I don't think he ever planned on being your boyfriend." Kuroo grit out and Oikawa tensed up, then Kuroo's voice was quieter, calmer. "Look, this is a two-way street. I know you want to be with Iwaizumi, but I don't think he wanted the same in the end. From everything you've told me it sounds like he just wanted a little fun, not something more intimate. I'd tell you to talk to him, but I don't want you getting sucked into anything you don't want again. It's wrong that you're hurting so much, I just don't want to see you fall apart anymore because of it... None of us do. Akaashi noticed first, hell even Bokuto knew something was up." Kuroo scratched the back of his head, his perpetual bedhead changing direction yet again. "What I'm trying to say is, you deserve to be happy as much as Iwaizumi does. And  _this_ ," He gestured to Oikawa, his shoulders slumped, frown on his face, "this is not happy."

Oikawa considered this for a moment, then nodded his head a little, fluffy hair bobbing. 

"He's right, you know." Another voice piped from the bedroom doorway, revealing a half asleep Kenma in a black shirt and sweats far too large for his petit frame. He slumped down beside Kuroo on the couch and pulled his knees into his chest, the larger man's eyes trained affectionately on his face. "But I think you're telling him the wrong things, Kuroo."

Oikawa sniffled, perplexed. "What does that mean."

Kenma was quiet for a moment, looking back and forth between the confused stares of the other men. "It means I don't think you should give up on Iwaizumi. You love him, and love's worth fighting for." He says simply, stunning the room into silence.

"But Iwaizumi just takes and takes and gives nothing back." Kuroo looked hesitantly over at Oikawa, gauging whether or not that statement crossed the line.

Oikawa sighed defeatedly. "You're right." He said distastefully. "Iwaizumi doesn't love me like I want him to, and I don't think he ever will." He mumbled the last bit.

Kenma looked at him, all sharp eyes and curious voice, reading Oikawa with ease. "You don't believe that."

Oikawa flinched. "I have to."

Kenma sighed, poking Kuroo in the ribs. "That's what I meant when I said he's telling you the wrong things. When you think about him, there's pain but there's also warmth. Iwaizumi's your best friend and closest person you've ever had, don't you maybe think that all of this is effecting him too?"

He hadn't thought about it like that before. He'd always been wanting and wanting from Iwaizumi and Iwaizumi had always been giving and giving, just never the things he'd been asking for. Maybe Iwaizumi was just confused, that he thought Oikawa had only ever wanted him for sex so that's what he gave back in return. Of course, that had always been Oikawa's original plan, to sleep with Iwaizumi but never anything more, something he'd only recently discovered had never been an option to begin with. His feelings for Iwaizumi ran deep, ingrained into his very core like an interwoven net as it snared his heart in a death grip. It had always been that way, since the moment they'd met, but only recently had Oikawa labelled this feeling as all-consuming love rather than solely a strong bond.

But what were the chances that something like that had happened to Iwaizumi, too. That he was confused about what his feelings meant, that he didn't understand why he'd developed feelings for Oikawa that weren't simply carnal or friendly, but something much deeper and intimate. What if Iwaizumi, all this time, had been suffering right alongside Oikawa, not knowing how to push the boundaries without destroying their friendship entirely. It was an odd concept to be presented with, and Oikawa sat there puzzling for longer than he'd rather admit. Kuroo and Kenma sat watching him in silence, Kuroo's thumb drawing lazy circles on Kenma's exposed ankle.

Kenma leaned his head on Kuroo's shoulder. "You're such a pessimist." He scolded and Kuroo had the decency to look embarrassed about trying to force Oikawa to give up Iwaizumi. Because looking at him now, the way his eyes crackled with deep thought, how his body seemed slightly more relaxed, Kuroo knew he'd been wrong in his assumptions. 

"But Mirai... was there, I saw her come out of the house. And Iwa was-- he was--" Oikawa scrambled for words, his mind and heart at war.

"Don't listen to Kuroo, you need to talk with Iwaizumi, Oikawa. Even if there's nothing salvageable, do it at least for finality, so you know what was actually going on rather than assuming."  

Oikawa shook his head. "I don't want to, it'll hurt too much to see him."

"He deserves to hear what you have to say just as much as you deserve to hear him out." Kenma stated. "If you don't endure the pain and go face him now, maybe you never will."

Kenma was right, Oikawa knew a confrontation like this would be something he'd rather avoid, confrontation had always been Iwaizumi's thing after all. And if Iwaizumi hadn't contacted him after this long, then maybe it was like Kuroo said: the decision's already been made for him.

"Oikawa has a game this weekend, he probably doesn't want the extra stress going into it." Kuroo provided helpfully, sending a pitying look towards him. He didn't need the pity, but Kuroo was right to bring that up as a distraction.

"Then you go after." Kenma suggested.

Oikawa sighed. "Okay. After." He agreed.

And the weekend hadn't come soon enough. For the rest of the week, it was like Oikawa had become hyperaware of everyone around him, knowing that if he saw Iwaizumi by accident he'd probably have some sort of mental breakdown, and that, as we know, is not good for his sporting performance. But he didn't need to worry, because just like before it was as if Iwaizumi had fallen right off the map, only now Oikawa was concerned. He didn't want to see him yet, the pain was still too fresh, but with Iwaizumi's extended absence he started to fear the worst. He sent Kuroo over to his house to investigate, learning Iwaizumi wasn't there either. The anxiety was eating him alive.

It was confusing, it  _hurt_ , because Oikawa knew he was probably planting false hope in his own head. What reason had even he given to Iwaizumi to make him fall for him? What had he done or said that made Iwaizumi realize his feelings? With just sex? That was highly unlikely. And if it was, then that was honestly a little pathetic.

Compared to Oikawa's feelings for him, 'loving' someone because you slept with them just seems so shallow. Which is an ironic statement to make, seeing how Oikawa only came to realizing his feelings because he slept with Iwaizumi and had the chance to be more intimate with him. But if sex had led him to his own realization, wasn't it possible the same thing happened to Iwaizumi?

 

*

 

The team left on Thursday for Barcelona for their world league game to have a few days to recover from jetlag, and soon enough it was the morning of his game. The game was set to be in the late evening but the team met early to walk into the stadium together. They still had over an hour before the game was officially supposed to begin and, as per usual, it took a long time to warm up and the Canadian's they were playing were already there, spread out on and off the court. Some of his teammates went to the private courts located under the stands, but Oikawa plopped himself on the floor as he pulled his gear from his bag. Surrounding the court, the stands were already filling up with eager fans, and although Oikawa didn't recognize any of them, he saw more than a few signs with his name or face printed on the front. He was a fan favourite, after all.

But unlike the times before, the glamour and excitement that built throughout the stadium seemed more depressing to Oikawa than anything else, and he found himself, for once, not caring about all the fans in the audience. Who were they to cheer for him, who were they to post their admiration online about him? To Oikawa, none of that seemed to matter anymore, because now that he knew he was so tragically, terribly, deeply in love with Iwaizumi, he couldn't bear the thought that there were  _still_ people out there who only wanted him because he was attractive. He'd had his flings, he'd had people pining after him, he'd had his time as a slut and an attention whore. And now, he knew for certain, that wasn't the life he wanted.

"I don't think I can do this..." He mumbled to himself in the middle of his physio exercises. He was defeated, frustrated, he need more time to think and less time actually doing things. He was depressed and sad, angry and conflicted, and his face must have shown all of that clearly because his teammates started to notice, some even coming over to ask what's up. The burn of hot tears threatened his waterline and Oikawa cursed himself that even the thought of Iwaizumi could bring him to tears,  _real tears._

"Oikawa." The gruff voice of his coach sounded off behind him and he turned to see the concern hiding beneath the old man's serious facade. His mouth was a tight line, but in his eyes were the sympathy and understanding of knowing the mental turmoils of athletes before big games, even if the suffocating feeling Oikawa felt wasn't because of the game but something else entirely. "Yer first string today, pull yerself together. We're all counting on ya."

"Hey coach..." Oikawa called out as the old man began turning. Oikawa looked to the ground in shame, knowing that this was going to lose him the respect he'd worked so hard to build with his coach. Volleyball's so difficult to progress in because you're constantly having to parade yourself in front of coaches to get noticed, timid people don't cut it, and people with bad attitudes will never make it. And yet, even though Oikawa knew the consequences of what he was going to say, he still couldn't help them pouring from his heart like water from a shattered vase. "I don't think I can play today, I'd rather sit out."

He received a hard stare, but his coach had been an athlete himself, he'd known from countless years of experience in the sport that sometimes all people needed was a push in the right direction to set them back.

"No." His coach answered and Oikawa flinched at the gentleness of his tone. "Yer our star, Oikawa. We need you here an' thinking, otherwise the team'll be lost. But don't just play for th' team, play because ya love playing, that's th' most important thing." He huffed. "So get back on yer feet, boy, and go give 'em hell."

Oikawa crumpled into himself, knowing that the choice on the matter had already been made. He was hurting, he didn't want to be focusing on winning, not now. But his coach had made his decision, and when warm up was over and the teams lined up on the sideline to sing their respective national anthems, Oikawa knew there was no way out now. The huge Japanese and Canadian flags hung side by side surrounded by all the other countries flags that participated in FIVB events, specifically the world league series, and Oikawa found his gaze drifting as the anthem came to a close. This had been his dream, to represent his country at the top level of volleyball. He'd been consumed by his dream, driven by it, haunted by it. It had been his whole life, clawing his way from the bottom to get here. He should feel ecstatic, on top of the world, and yet instead he felt empty inside, and that thought killed him more than anything. 

Was this the extent of the effect Iwaizumi had on him? So blinding and all-consuming that he couldn't even appreciate the things he loved in his life anymore? It was ridiculous, and it was not okay. Oikawa needed to learn to be okay without Iwaizumi, the one constant in his life, otherwise he'd forget how to live completely.

But as he was thinking this, his gaze travelling from the flag up above out to the crowd surrounding them, his eyes impossibly latched onto one very familiar dark pair. Eyes that he'd seen his whole life, every single day, but never truly appreciated until this moment. Eyes that had watched him grow since childhood, had tenderly studied him at night when he thought Oikawa was asleep. Eyes that widened as large as dinner plates to match Oikawa's reaction.

And there he was, Iwaizumi, hunched over in a faded jean jacket and hoodie, his same spiky hair, his same handsome face. He looked as shocked as Oikawa, seated up in a middle row, and Oikawa didn't even process he was crying until the warmth of his tears were falling from his chin. If he were to look at the giant screens, he would've seen his pathetic face the subject of them all. At least to the viewers, it looked like he was just really emotional about his anthem, but to Oikawa and Iwaizumi, it was like the whole world had stopped.

Why was he here, what was he doing? These questions were directed as much at Oikawa himself as they were Iwaizumi. He was confused and hurt, his healing wounds so suddenly and unexpectedly torn open it felt like a bullet to his chest. He struggled for breath. He felt numb.

And when the game was finally beginning, his teammates giving him odd looks as he mindlessly trudged onto the court, slow and overwhelmed, Oikawa was again hit with the conclusion that he couldn't do this. Not now, not when he knew Iwaizumi was watching him, not with the boiling ache inside of him. It was just. All. Too. Much.

The first serve was sent from the other side, a harsh spin that curved the ball that had his teammate diving to pick it up in time. This was a fast level of play, Oikawa was already at the net, his body reacting on instinct even if his mind was somewhere far, far away. His hitters were approaching from all sides, the blockers in his peripheral. During times like this his mind usually worked in split second decisions; where will the blockers anticipate the hit, how to I get my hitters an open net... But now his mind was completely blank, still reeling from the shock of seeing Iwaizumi in the crowd. He jumped as the ball came above him, sending it in a low arc to power and to their hardest hitter, but the moment the ball left his hands, he knew the trajectory was off. It was too tight to the net and the blockers on the other side caught on immediately. His hitter couldn't do anything with it, attempting to go for a tip but the light pressure from his touch was shut down by the blockers. The ball fell to the floor, and the first point was lost because of Oikawa. He heard his coach yelling from behind him, no doubt telling him to get his head out of his ass and stop messing up easy sets like that. His teammates encouraged him but there was minor frustration in their eyes.

The next serve was the same, fast and hard and curving to the sideline over Oikawa's head, his teammate picked it up and his hitters were all coming in as Oikawa once again jumped to set the ball. His set was wonky and this time was too far off the net, but his teammate adjusted and killed it with a hard slap of his hand. Oikawa cheered at their point win, but only because he knew he was supposed to.

Their score was increasingly falling behind as the game progressed, and their opponents were the first ones to break the twenty point mark. Oikawa was slow and uncoordinated, his teammates had to cover for him more often than not and he was almost surprised that his coach hadn't subbed him out yet for as badly as he was playing. They were ranked higher than the Canadians at the moment, but today they seemed utterly outclassed. And Oikawa knew part of the reason was because he was distracted. Distracted by Iwaizumi up in the stands, too close and yet not close enough. Why was he even here? It's not like Barcelona was close to home,  _at all,_ and so Oikawa knew that Iwaizumi must be here for one reason otherwise, because Oikawa was playing. That thought simultaneously killed him and excited him, it made him hope for things he knew weren't possible and wish that he could make things better between them. Was this Iwaizumi's way of apologizing? Or was he simply too cold hearted to realize what this means to Oikawa. Maybe Iwaizumi didn't think much of it, maybe he thought their fight would blow over like it always did. Maybe he didn't truly understand what Oikawa meant that night when he basically confessed his feelings to Iwaizumi's face, in rage and in pain. He was confused, and this confusion led his mind away from the game, away from volleyball, away from Barcelona. Instead it led him back to the peaceful nights he and Iwaizumi had rarely shared, those precious few times when they'd cuddled after sex, when Iwaizumi kissed him gently before practice that one morning, when they were children and they were completely inseparable. Their friendship that Oikawa knew meant more to him than just sex, his bond with Iwaizumi that was one forged through unwavering support and fierce,  _fierce_  respect for each other.

And while Oikawa's mind was occupied thinking of all the warm parts about Iwaizumi that made him truly love him, he forgot to be present in the moment. The ball had been passed tight to the net and Oikawa jumped high to reach it, his arm warding off the blockers that loomed menacingly adjacent. He called for his middle hitter, who contacted the ball the moment it left Oikawa's fingertips, hitting it down so fast and so hard it could've caused a concussion. But while this was happening, Oikawa was falling. Falling awkwardly as he brushed the net, unbalanced as his foot accidentally stuck under and to the other side. And suddenly, everything seemed to move in slow motion.

The roll as his foot landed atop his opponent's shoe, the sickening pop as his muscles were torn apart, the awkward bend in his right knee as a second, more familiar, pop tore the muscles there as well, the crumpling sensation as his body couldn't support his own weight as he fell to the floor, and finally the pain that shot through his leg like he were on  _fire._ It was nearly unbearable, his hands began shaking, he thought he was hyperventilating, but he couldn't be sure. He looked to his knee where it lay mangled beneath him. He suppressed the urge to scream out in pain.

The audience had collectively gasped when it'd happened, and now the loud buzz of anxious whispers overtook the stadium. But Oikawa couldn't hear any of it, all he could hear was the pounding of blood in his ears. He didn't yell, but his mouth hung open dumbly as he assessed the pain and events that transpired. His teammates were crowding around him, his coach anxiously pacing at the sideline. The ref called a time out.

"You okay?"

"Shit, can you get up?"

"Fuck, man. Your knee..."

His teammates offered him a hand but Oikawa just shook his head silently, his eyes staring into nothingness. He didn't want to move, he felt frozen and terrified of what this might mean. He'd known this feeling before, the helplessness immediately after an injury. He'd felt it when he'd first wrecked his knee, this same feeling of immeasurable pain that shot in waves all the way up his spine. He felt nauseous, he felt tired. When it was obvious he wasn't able to move, his coach rushed onto the court in worry, squatting down beside his head as the event paramedics followed shortly behind.

The crowd whispered nervously around the stadium as he was pulled onto a stretcher and scurried away from the scene and out of view of the cameras. Oikawa closed his eyes, knowing a familiar dark pair was almost certainly pinned on him. 

Oikawa hated pain, he hated injuries, but in the moment he found himself not caring at all. He was numb and broken and tired and he wanted out. He was almost relieved to not be playing, to not have the extra pressure weighted on his already heavy shoulders.

The doctor in the infirmary asked him a few questions, mostly about his past injury to his knee, but Oikawa was barely paying attention. They told him it looked like some severe muscle tears in both his right ankle and right knee, and that they'd be emitting him to the hospital as soon as the ambulance got here. But Oikawa was tired, and (surprisingly enough to everyone) he was asleep before it even arrived.

 

*

 

When he woke up it was to the sharp smell of antiseptic and the quietness of a clean white room.

(The hospital didn't really need to give him a room for his injuries, but with him falling asleep almost immediately after the doctors were concerned that maybe he hit his head during the fall. They couldn't be too careful, this was a volleyball celebrity after all.)

Bright morning light filtered in from the window beside his hospital bed, and Oikawa sluggishly realized he'd slept until morning. Blinking the sleep from his eyes he tried turning in his drowsiness, only to find himself wide awake as sharp pain coursed through the right side of his body like stab wounds. He gasped loudly, and as he did so his eyes latched onto a dark lump in the chair beside him in fear, making him gasp again.

Iwaizumi was asleep, arms crossed over his chest, his face uncomfortable and pinched. It didn't look very restful, that was for sure.

He didn't wake when Oikawa sat up in bed, staring, like he thought he was hallucinating, or something. His heart beat wickedly hard in his chest, his throat felt tight and constricted, and he worried his lip to keep his incredibly fragile emotions from pouring right out of his eyes.

_What was Iwaizumi doing here?_

A nurse chose that exact moment to come in through the doors, smiling a little at Oikawa when he turned those large eyes up at her. She blushed lightly, and cleared her throat before she spoke.

"I'm glad you're awake, we have some tests to run before you can go home, just to be certain of your recovery details." She explained cheerily, smiling when the darker haired man jumped at her voice.

Oikawa turned sharply to look at Iwaizumi, his face all concern and fear when his friend froze as their eyes finally met for the first time since the anthem at the world league game.

"I'll... give you two a moment." The nurse giggled as she shut the door behind her, casting the room into thick silence.

Iwaizumi opened and closed his mouth a few times, eventually opting to just hanging his head. Upon closer inspection, Oikawa could see there was something seriously wrong. Iwaizumi's normally tanned skin was pale and lifeless, his eyes were bloodshot and deep bags marred his handsome face. His hands clasped each other tightly to keep from shaking and his plump lip was being gnawed into a swollen balloon. He looked anxious, scared, hesitant, and so unlike the Iwaizumi Oikawa had known his entire life. Was he really that afraid to face Oikawa? Was he that ashamed of his actions?

"Oikawa... I..." Iwaizumi started, but he paused when Oikawa's face morphed from confusion and concern, to closed-off and fearful.

"Don't say anything." Oikawa mumbled quickly, studying the sheets in his lap. He gulped thickly, licked his lips, and narrowed his eyes. "Why're you here?"

That was the real thing he wanted to know, he didn't need Iwaizumi's half-assed apology or intricate excuses, he wanted to know the truth. Why had Iwaizumi come all the way to Barcelona, why was he with Oikawa now. This man that he loved so much, who was breathing shaky breaths as his eyes skirted nervously at his feet, who's usual confidence and strength was now nowhere to be found. This man that he loved who was his best friend and most precious person, who no matter what he'd done to hurt Oikawa, how much pain resurfaced being this close to him, that Oikawa knew he could never deny the tug on his heart when he looked at him, when he thought about him.

He was in love with Iwaizumi, and his fragile mind was once again, for what felt like the hundredth time, being willingly placed in Iwaizumi's hands, hoping fruitlessly that it wouldn't be crushed as it had been so many times in the past.

But Iwaizumi chuckled hollowly to himself, a sad smile curling his lips as his dark eyes, heavy with worry, swam in Oikawa's own.

"You're my best friend." Iwaizumi pleaded with a little distraught laugh. Then tears were rapidly forming in his waterline, and he laughed nervously as he wiped at them in vain.

Oikawa wasn't breathing, he wasn't even thinking. But instantly his eyes matched Iwaizumi's, overflowing with tears of relief, tears of sorrow, tears of frustration. Because what right did Iwaizumi have to come here and say that to Oikawa after all he'd done to him, after all the unintentional pain, and after their last fight. He didn't have the right, except Oikawa knew his words to be true. He'd never have stopped being friends with Iwaizumi, their bond was just too closely woven together.

And to see the heavy emotion weighing on Iwaizumi, seeing in his honest eyes how difficult those words were to say even now, knowing that they should be rejected but stating them in desperation anyway. He could tell Iwaizumi was sorry, and he could tell that he missed their friendship over everything else, just as Oikawa did. It felt like he were as light as a feather and as heavy as a mountain at the same time as he was hit with the truth.

"I hate this." Iwaizumi gestured vaguely between them as he wiped his cheeks red. "I hate what I did to us."

Oikawa sniffled loudly, not agreeing nor denying that statement. Oikawa hated that things hadn't worked out the way he wanted it, but he wasn't upset because it had happened. The pain hurt, the betrayal stung, but Oikawa knew deep in his heart he would've done it all again if Iwaizumi asked him to. 

"Oikawa... I wanna make things better, I-- How can I do that for you?"

Oikawa opened his mouth to speak, the words hanging laboriously on his tongue. But he never got the chance, because a doctor was coming into the room with the nurse from before at his side. 

"Oh, I-- Excuse us, we didn't mean to intrude." The doctor chuckled nervously as the two younger men wiped their tears away. "I'm very sorry but you're scheduled in for tests, better now than later seeing as it's been far too long since the injury happened."

Oikawa nodded glumly as his bed was wheeled out the room and away, leaving Iwaizumi alone on the chair.

The tests didn't take very long, he had to do some weird things and everywhere from laying on a table while a machine took pictures to having the doctor grope around his foot, ankle, shin, and thigh while asking constantly if the pain was too unbearable. Obviously it was at some points, but Oikawa made sure to put on a brave face. When he was finally wheeled back into his room he saw Iwaizumi had been joined by his coach and a member of the support staff. They greeted him with a smile, Iwaizumi simply watched.

Then the doctor did something that made Oikawa's heart honest to god skip a beat as his brain tried to catch up with his ears.

"You're the boyfriend, right?" He'd asked Iwaizumi.

Now, Oikawa didn't know a lot about what Iwaizumi's true feelings were for him, but the way Iwaizumi's face flamed a shocking shade of scarlet proved that maybe Oikawa wasn't as crazy as he thought himself to be. Because how could Oikawa  _not be confused_ when Iwaizumi gulped and nodded in confirmation, his eyes very carefully avoiding Oikawa's wide ones. How could he even  _speak_ to voice his bewilderment when his brain refused to form coherent thoughts let alone words or sentences.

The doctor continued. "So I can assume you'll be his caregiver for the next few weeks, at least until he's able to move from crutches to a boot, correct?"

"Yes." Iwaizumi stated.

"Alright, I'll let you all know the verdict, that is if you're alright with me telling them, Oikawa."

Oikawa nodded dumbly, mutely. His mouth struggling to form words, an angry mess of frustration and happiness and anguish swirling deep in his gut. What the hell was going on? Why had Iwaizumi--

"You've torn three ligaments in your right ankle, laterally and on top of the foot. Your ACL, the anterior cruciate ligament, down the front of your knee is a grade 2 injury, meaning stretched severely but not torn again, we think most likely because of a buildup of scar tissue from a past injury there. Your ankle will recover with time and physio, but you need to be careful about weight bearing for the next month or so. As for your knee, well... with a grade 3 tear on your first time injuring it, and a grade 2 on your second time, as a doctor I'd worry that anymore injuries to this knee will mean a lifelong injury, and lifelong pain along with that. You're a professional athlete, correct?" He eyed Oikawa, then eyed his coach.

Oikawa nodded, numb.

"It's not my decision by any means, but my professional suggestion would be retirement from high level sport. Anymore damage to your knee and you won't be walking in your old age." He looked around the room solemnly in understanding, then Oikawa's coach was piping up, asking questions and the doctor was answering in turn. Oikawa stared blankly at his bedsheets, feeling empty and cold inside.

Volleyball had been his dream, the love of his life for so many years, and he'd only just reached the top. He'd only just tasted victory, he still had so much more to do, so much more to learn. He couldn't give up volleyball, he couldn't. Not after all the hard work he's put in, all the suffering of never being good enough, of pursuing and honing his abilities to be the best he could be. Hours and days and years, all for nothing because of his _stupidity_. It felt like a piece of him was now missing, that he'd never be complete again knowing he'd never play again.

He couldn't even bring himself to cry. The burn of hot tears stung the backs of his heavy eyes, the hollowness of his chest breathing shallowly. His hands slack on top of his lap.

He felt detached from the world, like the words spoken around him were fuzzy and distant. And suddenly, like a lifeline, he was drawn back by a familiar warm pressure gripping his limp hand. Iwaizumi looked back at him, fierce and strong and the pillar of support Oikawa always remembered him being. His eyes shone with honest loyalty and concern, his brows pinched upwards. He wasn't listening to the doctor, he was looking to Oikawa, a pleading expression on his face. And without words Oikawa understood what he was telling him, that it didn't matter what the doctor said, that volleyball didn't have to be over, that he could do this and that he believed in him.

It was precisely what Oikawa needed to know, and tears once again refused to fall. Instead he sobbed dryly as Iwaizumi tightened his grip in Oikawa's hand, entwining their fingers together.

The doctor prescribed some pain meds, handing them to Iwaizumi along with a pair of crutches and a boot to take home with them, explain in great detail how to travel on a plane properly with this new injury, then he was leaving, the room quiet and heavy with emotion.

"He's wrong, y'know." His coach huffed, eyeing the door with disapproval. "This doesn't have ter be the end for ya. We'll set ya up with a specialist when we get home, I'll call an' make some arrangements today." He sighed, watching Oikawa sadly. "Don't ya give up on us, Oikawa. He made it sound bad, but you can overcome this."

"With my last injury I was out for over a year." Oikawa stated worriedly, peering curiously at his coach and wondering if he'd be replaced on the national team for this. But his coach only smiled at him, that weird half-smile as his eyes wrinkled warmly.

"I know injuries, kid, where d'ya think I got this nasty limp from?" He chuckled lightly. "It's up to you whether ya let this shit get the best of ya or not. I, fer one, believe in ya. Yer a star, Oikawa, and we all want ya to keep on shining. Volleyball's not going anywhere, and we're not dropping ya because of this, if that's what yer so concerned about."

"What if I'm--"

"I don't wanna hear it! I hand picked ya because, plainly speaking, yer the best there is. I've already received scouting requests from every big name team in the world asking ya to join for world's off season. Once yer out of college ball the national team isn't all there is, there'll always be other teams. But I'm a selfish bastard and I'm not lettin' you retire just because of some injuries. I like ya, boy, cause ya haven't always been the best, I've trained all sorts of athletes and can tell now just by lookin' at ya. You've worked hard t' get here, and now I'm asking ya to work some more. This injury isn't the end, it's just a new chapter in yer life. Do ya understand?"

"Yeah..."

"Good, cause yer not giving up now if I can do anythin' about it." He placed a hand on Oikawa's shoulder, forcing him to look up. "Physio is th' first step. Then we'll do one on one drills, y'know, like sitting while ya do setting reps an' such. There're things you can do while yer injured, it's not as hopeless as ya may think."

"He's right, Oikawa, don't give up just cause of this." Iwaizumi nodded encouragingly when Oikawa looked over at him. "You're better than that."

"Oi! Boyfriend." His coach trumpeted, and Iwaizumi and Oikawa sported the same matching blush at his words. His eyes glinted with amusement. "You take care of him, ya here?"

"I will..."

The team's next game was scheduled for Berlin and their flight was later that evening, but his coach insisted he go straight home to Japan.

"But--" Oikawa was cut off by his coach's stern look.

They were driven to the airport by the bus the team rented, both Iwaizumi and Oikawa. Many of his teammates gave the pair curious looks, but then would only ask about Oikawa's injuries and how he was doing. Oikawa didn't mind, he'd had enough awkwardness with the whole 'boyfriend' thing in the hospital that day anyways. The rest of the team was flying out later that afternoon, and they opted to do some sightseeing before they left.

When they got off the bus slowly, Oikawa being helped down the stairs by Iwaizumi, his coach called out from behind them.

"Boyfriend!" He said and Iwaizumi turned swiftly around, Oikawa whined at the loss of support.

"Iwaaaa!"

"You remember what I said, hm? Take care of him." His coach finished, him and Iwaizumi both ignoring Oikawa's protests.

Iwaizumi nodded and the two unhurriedly made their way inside the airport.

 

*

 

He didn't know how it happened, or why it happened, but when the two boys returned home to Japan they habitually moved back into their neglected home. Maybe it was something about how Iwaizumi's presence was comforting and familiar that he forgot was an added effect of the other boy. The pain was still very raw and very real, remembering how Iwaizumi had coldly cast him aside like he was worthless. But it was refreshing to see the other side of him now, to know that Iwaizumi was sorry and that he wanted things to be different. That he had realized their mistake and wanted to mend it in some way. Iwaizumi missed Oikawa, just as Oikawa had missed him, and that was something special to hold onto.

A couple days later Oikawa called Kuroo and thanked him for letting him crash at his place, and that he was moving back into his own house. And while Kuroo had been a little skeptical about moving back in with Iwaizumi so suddenly, Kenma promised Oikawa they were both happy for him, and warned him to not get carried away again.

It was awkward at first, getting used to being around each other again. Oikawa set up camp on the couch since he struggled with getting up the stairs on crutches, and some nights Iwaizumi would accidentally fall asleep in the armchair adjacent while on his phone. It was hard to have Iwaizumi constantly back in his life, but it was something his heart yearned for as much as it hurt it. Every time he looked at Iwaizumi, he could only think of the things Iwaizumi had said to him, the things he had done to him. Using him like a disgusting fucktoy, casting him aside like he meant nothing to him. It had been dehumanizing, humiliating. But at the same time, it had also been a huge wake up call.

Their past wasn't healthy by any means, but at least they were both willing to make it so. Repairing their friendship had come first above all else, and in some ways Oikawa was grateful for his injury because it gave them both something to think about rather than the immediate awkwardness of living together. Oikawa would make them coffee while Iwaizumi would make breakfast, then they'd sit together and talk about sports or school or their families... basically anything that didn't include each other, for the moment. They gradually warmed back up to each other. Iwaizumi would sternly remind Oikawa to do physio everyday, Oikawa would tease Iwaizumi about his eternal bedhead or choice of clothing. They went to classes together, and while it took Oikawa much longer on crutches, Iwaizumi would slow his pace so they were side by side the whole way.

Oikawa didn't know if he could forgive Iwaizumi, but that certainly didn't stop him from loving him. He needed his time to heal, mentally and physically, and Iwaizumi was there supporting him and patiently waiting for the day they could talk things through. Even once late at night when Oikawa tried bringing up something about their past, Iwaizumi has shushed him and told him he'd wait until Oikawa was actually ready to talk about it himself.

Oikawa caught himself, time and time again, studying his friend when Iwaizumi wasn't looking. Memorizing the shapes and contours of his frame, the exact colouring of his hair, the straight bridge of his nose. Sometimes he talked to himself up in his bedroom while doing homework, muttering different numbers to equations while he struggled through. The nervousness that was still present whenever Oikawa asked him to help support his weight or help with his injuries. The indifference he showed giggling girls when he'd instead turn to look right back at Oikawa's blushing face.

The smell of popcorn wafted from the kitchen as Iwaizumi brought in a steaming bowl for them to share. Oikawa took a handful in his mouth, cheeks puffed like a chipmunk. Iwaizumi chuckled as he set up his stickered laptop on the table. Oikawa offered a blanket, and the two leaned back into the couch as the movie started. Nothing but the sounds from the movie and the occasional soft crunch of eaten popcorn emanated between them. Well, that and about three feet of space. Oikawa's foot was propped up beside the laptop, a heavy brace anchoring his knee and heat packs hung precariously off the muscle on top. He giggled, and from the corner of his eye he saw Iwaizumi turn to look over at him slowly. He pretended not to notice.

"I'm ready to talk, if you are." Oikawa supplied quietly, nearly drowned out by the action going on on screen. He saw Iwaizumi stiffen in his peripheral, and when he turned to look at him directly he saw the unrestrained sadness he expressed on his face. Oikawa immediately melted, reaching a hand forward to cup under his ear. "Oh, Iwa... shit, don't be sad, Iwa." He pleaded and Iwaizumi sniffed loudly, turning away and roughly running the back of his hand under his nose. Iwaizumi paused the movie, the screen the only light in the dark house, illuminating their faces with a harsh pale glow.

"I... I fucked up." Iwaizumi started, his voice rough. Oikawa scooted a little closer, clasping both hands together in his lap.

"We both did." He answered. "We shouldn't have slept together, it--"

"I don't regret sleeping with you." Iwaizumi said firmly. Oikawa blinked. "I regret how I treated you like shit. You deserve so much better, Tooru, I just... I'm so sorry."

"You..."

"I'm an idiot, I know."

"No, you... you liked sleeping with me?"

Iwaizumi scoffed, running a shaky hand through his hair. "Yeah, I... you mean a lot to me." He sighed tiredly. "I get it now, it took me a while... but I know how much of an asshole I was to you. I hurt you and... and I get it if you can't forgive me, I'm not looking for forgiveness. I just want you to be alright..."

"Iwa..."

"And you should know I don't think of you like... like something  _disposable."_  He sneered around the words, like it physically pained him to say. "You're irreplaceable." His voice broke. "At least for me. And if it's too much for you to stay friends, then I'll leave you alone... I'll do anything."

"Iwa..."

"I know that whatever I say can't change what happened between us, but if we could go back and do it all again I know I--"

_"Iwa."_

Iwaizumi looked over then, eyes wide with fear and sadness and regret and longing. Eyes that matched the emptiness Oikawa had felt inside weeks ago when they were still hooking up together. But now, Oikawa was a different person. That emptiness inside was filled with warmth, with promise, and with forgiveness. His heart swelled. His eyes burned with tears. His lips quirked into the slightest of smiles.

"You don't need to say any more."

"I--"

"You hurt me, that much is true. It killed me to learn our friendship could be destroyed just by sleeping together, and it felt like betrayal after all this time together to see Mirai... _but,"_ He silenced Iwaizumi, who had begun to speak, "I made the problem far worse than it ever needed to be. Because I... fuck..."

"Tooru?"

"... I fell in love, Iwa." Oikawa said quietly, acutely aware of how his friend froze beside him. Confirming his shock when Oikawa turned to look him directly in the eye. His voice was fragile, broken, wary. But he knew the words to be true, from the deepest, purest part of his heart. "I love you..."

Iwaizumi's eyes widened, pupils dilating. His mouth slack. Posture hunched. He blinked, sinking the information in, his mouth moved silently like he couldn't get the words out. And then, with his eyes unmoving from Oikawa's face, tears began streaking hotly down his cheeks. He sniffled wetly, his cheeks turned red. His arms twitched like he wanted to move, but remained seated still.

Oikawa felt oddly heartbroken, seeing Iwaizumi upset like this. He reached out a hesitant hand to touch Iwaizumi's wet cheek, smearing the tears in vain. He was strangely calm, knowing that he'd willingly just placed the final piece of the puzzle in Iwaizumi's hands, giving his heart up on a platter to him without a second thought. It was a death sentence and he knew it. He didn't know what he expected Iwaizumi to do with that knowledge, he didn't know what he expected of himself for giving his secret away. And yet he had, and he gulped as he felt the tough fibres of rope loop around his neck.

"I think I've always been in love with you, ever since we were kids. I just... I never knew what these feelings meant until we... became more intimate." Oikawa confided, his hand dropping from Iwaizumi's cheek to rest behind his ear like he had earlier. "I love you, Iwaizumi Hajime. I have all along. And I'm sorry I dragged you into all of this, you never asked for it."

Fresh tears fell in matching streams down their faces. Eyes locked on one another. The gentle touch of Oikawa's hand on Iwaizumi's neck.

"It was wrong of me to suggest we get back at Mirai when you two first broke up. I was using you to get what I wanted, and you weren't sober enough to give proper consent. It was wrong that I didn't tell you immediately about it, and I'm sorry I led you to believe this was all just for fun, when, on my end, whether I realized it or not, it definitely was something more. I'm sorry I forced you into questioning your preferences, no one should be put in a situation like that. But mostly I'm sorry I lied to you when I realized I loved you, I'm sorry I ended our friendship over my feelings. I've been thinking I was the victim here all along, but really that was you, Iwa. I'm the worst kind of friend, and here you are upset and blaming yourself and thinking you did something wrong." Oikawa chuckled colourlessly to himself. "I guess I still haven't changed after all."

He waited for a few silent moments, studying Iwaizumi, feeling the ache in his chest grow when he finally spoke, broken and vulnerable.

"Tooru... you  _fucking idiot."_

Oikawa jumped a little at his firm tone, but he didn't dare move away. Not now. Not ever.

Oikawa didn't know what exactly he was expecting from Iwaizumi, the most likely scenario being anger, righteously so. But instead he was surprised when a warm hand covered his own on Iwaizumi's neck. Iwaizumi's thumb rubbed gently at the skin on his wrist.

"Can I kiss you?" Iwaizumi's voice broke. Oikawa's breath caught in his throat. He nodded mutely, unsure of how to respond.

Iwaizumi moved in slowly, his lashes fluttering shut as Oikawa felt the hot pressure of his nose on his cheek. The kiss was wet, and slow, and gentle. Chaste, but enough. Oikawa sobbed the whole way through it. Iwaizumi's thumb continued its motion on his wrist. His lips were soft. His body warm. His dark hair tickled Oikawa's forehead. His other hand cupped his cheek. When they broke apart Iwaizumi leaned their foreheads together, looking warily into Oikawa's eyes for signs of denial, and Oikawa was doing the same to him.

"You're not... mad?"

"I'm pissed as fuck." Iwaizumi whispered tenderly, in complete contrast with his words. "What the fuck have we been doing all this time?"

Oikawa's brows furrowed. He leaned back.

"What?"

Iwaizumi laughed, nearly hysterically. Oikawa watched on in confusion, wondering what he'd said that had been so funny. Iwaizumi regained his composure, wiping at the tears on Oikawa's face, and nearly breaking back down into tears himself when he spoke.

"What am I ever gonna do with you..."

"Iwa... what--"

"You're... not the only one with feelings, you know."

Oikawa's eyes widened. "... Iwa?"

"I just... I guess somewhere along the way... I fell in love, too."

Oikawa pouted. "Don't lie."

"I'm not. I... I actually--"

He was quieted by Oikawa's lips once again in a wet kiss. This one was fiercer than the first, Oikawa's hands held the sides of Iwaizumi's face, Iwaizumi gripped harshly at the fabric of his shirt. Their teeth clashed and tongues danced, tasting the salty popcorn on one another. Their lashes glimmered with wet tears. Their cheeks stained red. They gasped for breath, chests heaving when they separated.

"You fucking love me." Oikawa stated breathlessly, eyes drilling deep into Iwaizumi's own.

"I'm fucking  _in love_ with you, dumbass."

"Holy shit... what've we been doing all this time?"

"I already said that."

"You wasted my tears, Iwa."

"We broke each other's hearts."

It shouldn't have seemed funny, but their carefully contained smiles broke when Oikawa snorted loudly, both falling into a deep laughter. Oikawa leaned on the back of the couch. Iwaizumi buckled over. When they recovered they both just studied each other shamelessly, Oikawa's head rested in his hand.

Iwaizumi cleared his throat. "What do we do now?"

Oikawa rubbed at his eyes, willing the red puffiness away. "I... I don't know."

"Maybe we should take things slow." Iwaizumi suggested, using the bottom of his shirt to wipe the rest of his own tears from his chin. "We've both had a bad few weeks, I don't want to rush into anything while it's still raw, you know."

Oikawa nodded. "Yeah, I think so too." He licked his lips nervously. "So you... you really love me?"

Iwaizumi grinned, his eyes crinkling a little at the edges. "Yeah."

 _"Fuck,_  Iwa... We're idiots!"

"Yeah."

"I'm so dumb! I never thought you'd actually--"

"Is it really that hard to believe?"

"Well,  _yeah._ You always said you were into girls and you never told me you liked  _me--"_

"We've been together a long time, even if I didn't realize it you were always more special to me than my other friends."

"So you've loved me since we were kids like how I loved you?"

"No I think just being really close made the transition feel more natural for me."

"Iwaaaaaaa, you didn't love me as kids? Or even in high school?" Oikawa whined teasingly.

"I had a girlfriend." He said and Oikawa suddenly flinched. "Hey, we should really talk about that night."

"I... don't know if I want to hear it."

"Nothing happened, I swear. She came because she _claimed_ she wanted to clear some things up, but really she was just trying to get in my pants. It turns out the guy she cheated on me with was hooking up with another girl too, so she came crawling back wanting to get back together." Iwaizumi shook his head. "What a bitch, hey?"

"You didn't deserve any of that, I know you liked her a lot before... I dealt with your breakup in a bad way, and I dealt with seeing Mirai again even worse, I... I don't know if I'm better than her but--"

"You are." Iwaizumi smiled. "You... were having a rough patch a while ago, and I wasn't there for you as a friend like I should've been. But I know you better than I think I know myself, Tooru. And I know that behind all that fakeness you put up you're actually an amazing person, I wish you wouldn't hide yourself as much, because you should know I love that part of you the most."

 _"Fuck,_ Iwa, you're gonna make me cry again."

"I think we've made each other cry way too much in the past while, no more, okay?"

"Mhm." Oikawa nodded, sucking the tears back in in vain. "When I got to the house that night, I thought... that maybe you and Mirai hooked up or something. I was so afraid, I only realized what my feelings for you actually were and I was s-scared that I wasn't important enough to you. I thought maybe you were tired of me..." He broke down in tears. Iwaizumi closed the distance between them, wrapping his warm arms around Oikawa's torso, like he'd done many times before.

"Hey, shh... I'm sorry, it was a mistake and a coincidence, I'm so sorry." He whispered against Oikawa's temple. "When she contacted me I thought it was my chance to, you know, finalize things by myself. I knew I didn't have feelings for her anymore, because I'd fallen in love with someone else. I wanted to end things properly, not just because I found out she was cheating. I had good intentions, and we didn't even touch each other when she came here, I just told her to get the fuck out before you came home and got the wrong idea. Which, now I know, you obviously did."

"You broke my heart Iwa, I thought you didn't want me, I thought I was worthless. But I... I couldn't keep myself away from you, I'd do it all again if you asked."

"You shouldn't ever feel worthless like that, Tooru. I love you, I fucked up... I thought all you were looking for was sex so I tried to distance myself and tell myself not to care, but I couldn't do it. I hurt you because I was ignorant, and I'll never make you go through something like that again if I can help it, I promise."

"I believe you." Oikawa chuckled lightly. "Oh! I just remembered something! At the hospital they called you my boyfriend, what was that all about?"

Iwaizumi's face flushed red. "Oh, uh... yeah they wouldn't let me in to see you unless I was family so..."

Oikawa laughed. "I get it now. I was just so surprised, I thought you hated me or something-- and  _hey!_ Why were you in Barcelona? How have we never talked about this?"

"Fuck, fine. I just needed to see you, okay? I wanted to support you. I didn't think you'd actually see me there was like a fuck ton of people in there."

Iwaizumi wrapped his arms tighter around Oikawa, who was giggling profusely.

"Can you promise me something?" Iwaizumi asked after a moment.

"Anything."

"I don't want you to feel like you have to act a certain way around me, I like you just the way you are, just like this. Don't change, okay?"

"Iwa..." Oikawa sighed tiredly, pushing himself farther into Iwaizumi's chest. He rested his chin on his shoulder. Iwaizumi placed a kiss to his ear, then his temple, then his forehead. "I can do that, if you want."

Their night consisted of gentle kisses, soft caresses and hushed words, curled up in a blanket on their couch. They were both exhausted, mentally and physically drained from an emotional night, and when they finally decided to sleep they adhered to their decision to take things slow. Iwaizumi replaced Oikawa's heat packs for his knee and ankle, then with a tender kiss and a squeeze of his hand Iwaizumi tucked Oikawa in on the couch and retreated to his room for the night. Oikawa was grateful Iwaizumi wasn't with him at that moment, he needed time alone to think. But still, as he drifted off to sleep, he couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lips thinking about what the future held for them. Besides, now they had all the time in the world to figure it out.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer chapter today to make up for the three month hiatus ahah ah hah hah h ah ah h a
> 
> These boys hurt each other and now they're healing together  
> It wasnt either of their mistakes but a cumulation of both, i thought oiks summed it up pretty well:  
> "I've been thinking I was the victim here all along, but really that was you, Iwa. I'm the worst kind of friend, and here you are upset and blaming yourself and thinking you did something wrong."  
> The point being that you always think your problems are worse than others, and in this fic oiks is a pretty selfish person so obviously hes always assumed it was iwaizumi that was hurting him, but now we see oiks learning to think of others as well and i thought that was kinda cute c:
> 
> Fluff next chap, possibly smut  
> Rip Oik's knee + dreams  
> We're finally coming to a close on their story shortly but no worries cause there will be an epilogue as well!  
> As always kudos and comments are really appreciated
> 
>  
> 
> [My Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/pankmemes)
> 
>  
> 
> If you enjoy my work please feel free to check out my other fics:
> 
> [NaruSasu](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14321625/chapters/33047388) <\--- (Slow burn and graphic violence)  
> [RinHaru](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16799977/chapters/39432208) <\--- (Tooth rotting fluff and feel goodness) new!


	8. Broken But Healing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone, long time no see! I apologize for the lack of updates for mONTHS now, I've been extremely busy with finishing up school and dealing with other things that made it impossible to just sit down and finally finish this story.  
> Including this chapter, there's three chapter left, and I'm hoping to make more active updates within the next month to complete the boys' story.  
> Once I've posted the last chapter, I'll be going through and rewriting the majority of this fic to make it into something I'm more proud of since I've realized there's been inconsistencies throughout and I wasn't able to put as much time as I'd hoped into creating a well rounded story. So by the end of this fic if you're still interested check in in another couple months to read the updated version!  
> As always I hope you enjoy.

"Your hands are too slow, Tobio. And your feet aren't even stopped when you jump. Did you forget how to set?"

Oikawa pouted, rolling his eyes as he searched for some minute nonexistent problems with the younger boy's technique. Kageyama was gifted, and like in his past all it did was piss Oikawa off. But surprisingly, Oikawa's criticism was met with fierce determination as Kageyama nodded in understanding and impossibly  _fixed_ his technique during the next few sets, however slight the problem might have been.

The gym was empty. Balls lay scattered around the floor or sitting in the basket out in the power position. A large catching net hung above the basket, swooshing as Kageyama perfectly set another ball in. The boy himself was drenched in sweat, the short sleeves of his t-shirt rolled up over his shoulders. Oikawa sat on a box in the centre of the court, plucking another ball from his own basket beside him as he set it to Kageyama by the net for another rep.

Kageyama had religiously been coming to Oikawa's school to work with him on his technique every other day since Oikawa returned from Barcelona two weeks ago. He hadn't been invited to join the national team on their tour in Europe for the world league series and so like Oikawa he was stuck in Japan feeling antsy and determined to improve. He'd shown concern about Oikawa's injury, even telling him he'd seen it happen live on-screen, and for some reason Oikawa couldn't help but smile a little at that. He'd been nothing but mean to Kageyama his whole life, and yet this kid still looked at him like a role-model. Helping him with his setting was the least Oikawa could do for him, even if he made an effort to whine and complain as much as possible while doing it. 

But helping Kageyama eased something in Oikawa's soul. It was good for him, he knew that -- helping someone else. It provided new possibilities he'd never thought of before. Volleyball didn't have to end because of an injury. Really, volleyball didn't have to ever end if he didn't want it to because to him volleyball was so much more than a sport.

"Get some water." He told Kageyama, who's breathing had been steadily getting heavier and heavier over the past thirty minutes of drill repetition.

The raven nodded to him, and plucked his bottle from the sideline, thirstily gulping it down. Oikawa sighed, slouching a little as he looked down at his heavily braced knee. The box he sat on was uncomfortable.

"Your turn?"

Oikawa glanced over as Kageyama spoke. The raven was pointedly not looking at him at he crossed the court to shag stray balls back to the bin. Oikawa frowned.

"Mean! You know I can't stand, why would you even suggest--"

"Just stay sitting. We can move the box over to the net."

Kageyama looked at him then, walking over to offer an arm up to Oikawa. Oikawa glared, then accepted. He stood, his injured leg held aloft gingerly. Kageyama gave him his crutches which had been placed near his feet. The raven then moved the box over beside the net and Oikawa sat down. The position felt strange after years of seeing the same view from a much higher angle. Sitting down, his chin was about at the height of the bottom of the net.

"This isn't going to help me Tobio. My arc is going to be too high, it'll ruin my muscle memory."

Kageyama frowned, looking about the gym.

"Could we stack boxes?"

That seemed dangerous. Oikawa grinned devilishly.

"Sure."

With much cursing, strained muscles, and pestering from Oikawa, Kageyama stacked another heavy box on top of the other. When he offered a boost up for Oikawa, Oikawa was already heaving up the tower himself with one graceful pull. The boxes were now high enough that he was sitting roughly where he'd normally set from when jumping. Oikawa smiled a little from the top. He'd missed this view. He'd dreamed about it for the last two weeks like a teenager would their first crush. Two weeks had never stretched on into eternity like this before.

"Ready?" Kageyama asked from below, a ball spinning idly in his palm.

"Don't patronize me Tobio."

The ball was thrown to him, a little too far behind and because he was sitting he couldn't adjust his positioning. He set the ball almost behind him, and it surprisingly dropped within a foot of the catching net at the opposite end of the court when his hands connected and released. Oikawa turned to Kageyama.

"I could've fallen off Tobio! Are you really that bad at aiming?"

"Sorry. More in front?"

Oikawa pouted in response. The next ball was thrown to him perfectly, but his set still missed the catching net. 

"Damn it..." Oikawa said after the third missed set in a row. His skills had become rusty from the time he spent off the court. It seemed funny to Oikawa that after only two weeks of rest he was having this much trouble playing. "Again." 

Oikawa was frustrated, and he was tired. His whole life he'd had to work to stay at the same level as other players. This injury was still haunting him, circling back to when he'd first injured his knee and was forced to take a year off. But he knew now, that could never be an option again. Oikawa loved volleyball, and he loved playing. There were still things he could do to maintain his skills, like the reps he was doing now. He could study and learn the strategy of other setters. He wasn't going to give up on his dream. Especially not now.

When the next ball was released from his fingers, with more power than perhaps he'd initially meant to put on it, he flailed as he lost his balance momentarily, perched as he was on the tower of wobbly boxes. A deep chuckle sounded off behind him near the door, and both Oikawa and Kageyama turned curiously.

"You're seriously going to kill yourself at this rate, Oikawa." Kuroo smirked, his arms crossed over his chest. Beside him stood Iwaizumi, his jaw clenched as he watched on in an odd silence. For some reason, perhaps due to their relaxed posture, Oikawa got the sneaking suspicion they'd both been watching there for a while now.

"Oh please, I'm not fragile." Oikawa chirped. His eyes lingered on Iwaizumi for just a moment, a silent hello, before turning back to Kageyama who stood awkwardly in centre court. "Tobio's helping me practice. If only he could aim his throws I wouldn't have to worry about falling every three reps. Seriously, Tobio, you're hopeless. How do you expect to set properly if you can't even throw the ball where I want it."

Kageyama threw the next ball straight at his head, the accuracy a little frightening. Oikawa punched it away with a closed fist at the last second, causing him to wobble atop the tower. Kuroo howled from behind him.

"You deserved that." Kuroo smirked as he plopped himself down on the nearest bench and began pulling on his court shoes. Iwaizumi leaned against the wall, his hands shoved in his coat pockets, his eyes observant and focused on the court. Kuroo tore off his sweats and his hoodie and threw them to the floor. "How about you set me a few, hm? I came for some extra practice anyway, _captain."_

"Oh? Finally tired of those weak hits, are we?" Oikawa joked.

Kuroo feigned hurt. "You wound me."

"Fine. Just fifties?*" He confirmed with Kuroo as the middle blocker stretched a little at the attack line.

"Hm, yeah, just for now."

"Okay Tobio, don't be so mean this time I could've been seriously hurt you know!"

"I'll try my best." Kageyama deadpanned.

The next ball was thrown to him perfectly. It made Oikawa wonder if Kageyama was purposefully making him unbalanced before just for the hell of it. He could feel Kuroo approach from beside him. He could see as the middle jumped before the ball made it into Oikawa's hands. And then, as if on instinct, or perhaps because of the hundreds of thousands of times he'd practiced this set before, he carefully placed the ball into the pathway of Kuroo's swinging arm.  _BAM!_ The ball t-lined* on the other side, and Kuroo let out a whoop of satisfaction. Oikawa smiled a bit, it seems he wasn't as rusty as he'd originally thought.

"Fuck, man! I missed your sets!" Kuroo gave a small slap to Oikawa's good knee as he pivoted back around. "Akaashi's better at outside sets than middle sets and I've been struggling without you." Kuroo admitted as he got back into position. He nodded at Kageyama, who threw another ball, recreating the exact same scenario as before. Kuroo smirked gleefully as he landed. "I don't know how you do it, but there's something magical about your sets. You make everything so easy for me."

"It's kind of scary." Kageyama mumbled.

Oikawa turned to Kageyama. "It's in the quicker release, don't hold the ball for so long, Tobio." He mimicked the action and gave Kageyama a nod. Then, with a sly smile on his lips, Oikawa purred, "If only I had a power hitter here to help me work on my outside sets though... I don't want to get rusty after all."

Kuroo ran a hand through his hair oblivious to the way it made it even messier than before. "Kageyama could hit outside."

"Then we won't have anyone to toss the ball to me!"

"I've seriously been demoted to a ball tosser?" Kageyama mumbled under his breath.

Kuroo's smirk was sinister, obviously overhearing the younger setter. "I can hit outside if you need but--"

"Iwaaaa!" Oikawa happily sang, twisting around to see Iwaizumi still leaning against the wall from when he'd come in. "Come play with us, okay?"

Iwaizumi raised his eyebrows. "I'll pass." He said after a moment.

"Hey, you can play?!" Kuroo asked excitedly. Kageyama looked at Iwaizumi with awe. Kageyama at least knew he used to play, and was a fairly good player at that.

"I used to." Iwaizumi answered. Kuroo didn't look any less excited, walking over to place a hand on Iwaizumi's shoulder to push him into the court. "Wha-- Hey! I'm not exactly dressed for it right now."

"Come on, Iwa, you're not scared of us are you?" Oikawa hummed from atop his tower.

Iwaizumi scowled. "I'm just rusty, alright. Kageyama, you hit, I can throw--"

"No, no, Kageyama stay there, Iwa's just nervous is all."

The younger setter was looking back and forth confusedly, unsure of who to listen to. Kuroo was looking back and forth with glee.

Kuroo placed a hand on his hip, looking back at Kageyama over his shoulder.

"Can we start already?" He asked tiredly, selling his acting with a dramatic sigh.

"This one's yours, Iwa." Oikawa beamed, a finger pointed towards his friend.

Iwaizumi grumbled something under his breath, and strode out of the court in the power position to prepare for a hit.

Kageyama threw the ball perfectly to Oikawa once again. Oikawa remembered everything about how Iwaizumi and he used to play. He remembered the particular set Iwaizumi likes, fast and low, a little off the net and inside* to give him options around a taller block. After years of practicing with Iwaizumi by his side, Oikawa didn't even need to think as his body did the work for him. 

After all his failures with the catching net, this set was undeniably perfect. Exactly how Iwaizumi always liked it back in their high school days together. Oikawa's heart caught in his throat when he once again saw the sight he'd missed for so many years now, Iwaizumi flying through the air, placing his complete trust in Oikawa before the ball had even left his hands to set out. The set was fast and low, a little off and a little inside, exactly as he'd practiced thousands upon thousands of times when he was younger just to get it right. With a loud crack of Iwaizumi's hand on the ball, it slammed into the ground in a sharp cross*, hitting the t-line and bouncing high into the air, a testament to just how much power was loaded onto the ball.

Oikawa let out a whoop of excitement, pride swelling as a smile broke out on Iwaizumi's face.

"Shit, man! That was awesome." Kuroo slapped Iwaizumi's shoulder. "You really did used to play, huh?"

"Iwa was my favourite hitter all through middle school and high school, Kuroo, of course he's good."

"No kidding. Wait, why aren't you playing college ball then?"

Iwaizumi shrugged off his black hoodie and threw it in a pile off court. "I had other priorities." Iwaizumi said to them, back still turned. He rolled his shoulders a bit. "Again?"

Oikawa watched him for a moment, but the next ball was already being thrown and his attention was soon distracted for the rest of the night by the next hundred setting reps.

It was getting late by the time Kageyama finally decided he was done. They'd done some more practice now with the addition of two hitters, and that made getting feedback easier than without. Kageyama even switched in to practice his right side hits just for the hell of it, which gave Oikawa some more practice backsetting anyways.

Oikawa was still perched on the tower of boxes, and with Kageyama deciding to call it a day, he too was now feeling the exhaustion after having done not much practice since his return from Europe. He struggled at getting down from the boxes, and he lowered himself slowly. But then, strong hands were holding his waist in a secure grip, and he was helped back to his feet.

"Don't push yourself, dumbass." Iwaizumi murmured fondly as Oikawa twisted to flash a private smile at him.

"I was kinda hoping you'd offer to carry me home, Iwa."

Iwaizumi handed Oikawa his crutches with a wink.

Kuroo made a low whistle. "Not that _I_ mind, but go get a room you two. You're tainting Kageyama's pure mind."

"I think you're perfectly capable of that on your own, thank you." Oikawa retorted.

Kageyama, who's face was rather flushed from the sudden attention by the three older players, busied himself with clearing the court of balls. Iwaizumi began unstacking the boxes and placing them away behind them all.

"I got this." Kuroo said as he took the cart of balls Oikawa was struggling with rolling off to the equipment room from him.

"I'm perfectly fine on--"

"Me and Kenma were talking about you the other night." Kuroo rolled the carts to their spot, swinging the large double doors shut behind them. He chuckled a little at Oikawa's pout. "He said that still trying even when you're like this is what's gonna make you better down the road. Your injury won't last forever, but the time it'll take to heal doesn't have to be time wasted. Iwaizumi told me you've been practicing with Kageyama every other day since you got back. You have what it takes to get through this, Oikawa, I don't doubt that."

"Since when did you become so wise?"

"Kenma tends to rub off on me."

"Gross."

"Well... that too."

"I  _do not_ need this right now."

Kuroo chuckled wickedly as he prowled back to the benches where Kageyama was pulling on sweats and sandals. Once they were all changed of their sweaty shirts and smelly shoes, as a group the exited the gym and out into empty hallways that led outdoors. It was dark outside, and while inside the buildings had been quiet, outside it was about as busy as any other friday night was on a college campus. 

Kageyama said a short goodbye before running off to catch his train. Oikawa had spent so much time around him in the past few months he nearly forgot Kageyama went to a different school.

"You two need a ride?" Kuroo asked Iwaizumi and Oikawa. His keys jingled as he materialized them from his pocket.

Iwaizumi glanced over at Oikawa, who's crutches clicked along the pavement.

"It's okay, we're not really that far anyways." Oikawa smiled over at Iwaizumi.

Kuroo shrugged. "Suit yourself lovebirds."

Oikawa snorted and waved Kuroo's kissy faces away, practically shoving him into his car.

"Hey, Oikawa. You should come to practice next week. Everyone's worried about you."

"I can't exactly play."

"Sure you can, we'll put you up on that box tower again. We'll just have to make sure Bokuto doesn't accidentally knock it over with you on it. But I mean, Akaashi's got him on a pretty tight leash recently so..."

Oikawa smiled. He nodded after a moment. "Sure. I'll come."

"We're actually all going out tonight, not sure if you knew that already though. You guys can come if you want."

It was Iwaizumi that spoke up this time from behind Oikawa. "We actually have plans tonight."

Oikawa smirked. "I'm afraid Iwa's got me all booked up until tomorrow afternoon Kuroo. But have fun anyways."

Kuroo chuckled darkly. "I see. That's fine, enjoy your weekend guys."

They watched Kuroo go, then Iwaizumi turned to Oikawa. "Ready?"

"Hm."

They walked mostly in silence together, sometimes joking and sometimes teasing. It felt comfortable, back like they used to bicker with each other when they were kids. But there was something distinctly different about their relationship now as well. The way Oikawa's smile was gentle and effortless as he'd tease Iwaizumi. The way Iwaizumi's eyes lingered on Oikawa's face when he'd speak. The casual touch of Iwaizumi's hand bracing Oikawa's back as he hopped off the curb to cross the road. These things were different, but now they felt normal.

These past two weeks had been a recovery process for both of them. They'd been hurt, but now they were really trying to mend what they had before. And after two weeks of dancing around each other, after gradually reintroducing the intimate moments and the jokes and the laughter, they were both ready to begin again. Better this time than how they'd started the first. After the two weeks since they'd confessed, two weeks after they'd began their journey again with each other, Oikawa was finally ready to forgive, and Iwaizumi was committed to trying.

Somewhere along the way, after the pain and the heartbreak and the unknown and the speculation, after the gentleness and the forgiveness and the uncertainty and the true raw honesty between them, this tiny house they lived in had become a home. While their relationship had been solely sexual before, now it had been reborn from the ashes as something truly special. They hadn't even slept together since before their fight, which by now had been weeks and weeks ago. And yet oddly enough, the comfort in having someone close, in the tender touches and familiar banter, in the private smiles and the simple domesticity, Iwaizumi and Oikawa were okay with what they had from one another.

Inside Iwaizumi helped Oikawa up the stairs to his room where they each showered and changed into nicer clothes for the evening. Tonight was their very first date. It didn't seem odd to either of them, even if secretly their nerves were getting the best of them. As kids they'd spent every moment in each other's company, and so going out to a restaurant shouldn't seem like such a big deal now. But its the implication of knowing that this is a date, that they're both there because they  _want_ to be together brings a new light on the idea altogether.

Oikawa was dressed in a sleek white button down with black slacks and his glasses perched on his nose. Iwaizumi wore a dark red shirt and a black tie with the sleeves rolled up his forearms. Their eyes tracked each other, shamelessly checking each other out. An uncharacteristically pink blush misted Iwaizumi's cheeks and nose when Oikawa's chocolatey gaze rested on his face with a slight smile, and the blush only deepened when Oikawa adjusted his tie for him with clever fingers.

Their cab was waiting at the door, and Iwaizumi helped Oikawa down the stairs with his crutches.

Their night was relaxed, both used to being in each other's company as though the proximity and intimacy was as natural as breathing. They talked over wine and good food about anything and everything, their conversations tending to not make much sense to eves droppers from all the inside jokes and erratic bouts of laughter. But they were finally happy, and to them it seemed almost impossible that this would ever turn out to be their reality. From best friends to fuck buddies to something more than either of those. Something beyond anything they'd had with anyone else before. To them, being together in this way just seemed so right.

At home later that night they fell into a warm pile on Iwaizumi's bed, chuckling as they hurried underneath the blankets, still clothed in their previous attire. Iwaizumi delicately took Oikawa's glasses from his face and placed them on the bedside table. They were facing each other, matching cheeks of rosy pink. Warm eyes that carefully studied each other's gently smiling faces. It was Iwaizumi who pulled Oikawa close, who rested his forehead against his friend and prodded his nose against Oikawa's. But it was Oikawa who continued the extra centimetre of space between them to cover Iwaizumi's lips with his own. Their kiss was gentle and slow, a testament to the stark transformation they'd made in the past few weeks from before. But right now, when Iwaizumi's lips were so hot and soft against his, the way Oikawa's fingertips ghosted along Iwaizumi's cheeks to slot comfortably behind his ear, right now neither wanted to think about the past. They didn't want to remember how much they'd missed out on because of their stubbornness and ignorance. Because right now they had what they'd truly wanted all along, they had each other.

Oikawa felt the edges of Iwaizumi's mouth curl into a smile and he couldn't help but reciprocate.

Oikawa pulled back after a long moment, his eyes opening to see Iwaizumi's curious gaze in front of him. Oikawa's eyes shut as he moved forward for another slow kiss.

"I missed you." He spoke softly. And when he kissed Iwaizumi for the second time, Iwaizumi's lips were still curled into a smile. Iwaizumi's hand carded into the hair behind Oikawa's head possessively, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. There was a slight stubble along the roughness of Iwaizumi's cheeks that Oikawa ran his thumb over repeatedly.

Oikawa shifted, his body craving the warmth of Iwaizumi's chest, when his knee twisted at just a weird enough angle that he pulled back with a flinch of pain.

"Shit."

"You okay?"

"Yeah, my knee..."

Iwaizumi hummed thoughtfully, and settled back into his pillow, his eyes watching patiently as Oikawa rearranged his position to make the pain stop.

"Sorry." Oikawa murmured as he finally laid his head back down, facing Iwaizumi. They were so close to each other, eating up each other's space as though it were impossible to be further apart than they were.

"Don't push yourself, you idiot." Iwaizumi's fond smile was in contrast to his scolding words. His hand carded through Oikawa's hair again, fingernails scratching at his scalp ever so gently. Oikawa hummed and closed his eyes. "I'm okay with just this."

Oikawa's arm hung over Iwaizumi's ribcage. He drew circles and patterns along his spine with his fingers. The fabric of his shirt feeling odd beneath Oikawa's fingertips when he craved the smooth skin hidden underneath.

"Iwa--"

"Hajime."

Oikawa's eyes opened, his bottom lip stuck out in a confused pout. "Huh?"

"My name's Hajime."

Oikawa smiled. He ducked his eyes as a shy breathless laugh left his lips.

"I finally have permission now." He observed.

"I mean-- We--"

"I understand,  _Hajime."_ Oikawa pressed forward for another slow kiss, but before he did so, he asked, "But what do you call me?"

Their kiss was comforting, and it nearly made Oikawa forget the question to Iwaizumi's answer when Iwaizumi pulled back from the embrace after a few long moments.

"How about dumbass." Iwaizumi snorted when Oikawa's nose crinkled immediately. "I'll call you whatever you want me to call you."

"Not dumbass."

"Okay. Not dumbass."

Oikawa looked thoughtfully over Iwaizumi shoulder for a moment. "Call me what you want." He finally relinquished. "Tooru, or Oikawa, I don't really care as long as it's you saying it."

"Alright then  _Tooru."_ Iwaizumi teased, watching with glee as Oikawa's eyes widened ever so slightly.

Oikawa's heart stuttered in his chest, pulling him forward until he was a hair's length from Iwaizumi's lips.

"Kiss me." Oikawa asked breathlessly, his lips left parted in anticipation.

And Iwaizumi obliged, pressing forward, a smile on his lips, thinking somewhere between the quickening drum of his heartbeat and the closeness of the man he loved that this may in fact be the happiest moment of his life.

 _"God, Hajime._  I've wanted this for so long." Oikawa's fingertips gently touched Iwaizumi's lips after they broke apart, then his palm slid to Iwaizumi's cheek and he pulled their foreheads together. "So fucking long you have no idea."

"I'm here now." Iwaizumi answered, voice low, honest. "And I don't plan on letting you go again." His arm wrapped over Oikawa's shoulders to pull him into an embrace. "I'm sorry, Tooru. I'm so, so sorry."

Oikawa closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. He was so happy, and yet it made him feel sad. Sad that they'd stupidly floundered around their feelings and never just made the effort to be truthful with each other before. He was sad because all of that pain never needed to happen if Oikawa had just been upfront, and if Iwaizumi hadn't stubbornly tried to push and push and push away. They could've had this, this happiness that consumed them, the closeness that they'd always felt with one another amplified into something even more special, it could've happened so much sooner than it had. But still...

"I know, I am too. But you know what? Without all of that shit we put each other through I doubt we ever would've figured things out like we did. It was a struggle, but we survived, and we're happier for it."

"It still doesn't make it okay." Iwaizumi said. "Tooru, I promise you, this, us, it's all I could ever want. You... You make me so happy."

Oikawa grinned solemnly, forcing the building tears of relief not to fall. Iwaizumi's hand pulled Oikawa's face closer, his eyes closing. Their noses brushed against each other. To them, the tiny space between them in bed was the entire universe.

Iwaizumi's voice was low, quiet. "I love you, I don't think I could stop loving you if I tried."

"I know." Oikawa answered.

They were quiet for a while, just enjoying each other's company, the warmth from each other's bodies, then Iwaizumi spoke.

"Tooru?" He said quietly, unsure of whether Oikawa had fallen asleep or not. Oikawa's chocolatey gaze focusing on him was his reply. "Thank you for tonight."

"Mm, it was fun, wasn't it. I missed that part of you. You were always so mean to me in high school, you know." Oikawa pouted.

"That's because you were a little shit in high school." Iwaizumi chuckled, a smile remaining on his face afterwards.

"Only because I wanted your attention."

"Mm, no. You were just a little shit in general. You still are."

"See? Mean!" But Oikawa's lips curled back into a private smile when Iwaizumi kissed him softly. They parted, and suddenly like magic the conversation before was completely wiped from Oikawa's mind. "... Do you remember back in middle school when we used to go hunting for bugs in your backyard?"

Iwaizumi raised a brow. "Sure."

"I used to be so scared of all those beetle and worms you use to pick up. I thought for sure you'd throw them at me or try to make me touch them or something. Hey! Don't laugh, I was really scared okay?"

"Sorry... go on. Beetles and worms?"

Oikawa sighed. "I was scared, but you never teased me for being scared. Same with in high school when we played volleyball together. You've always been there to support me and to be by my side. I think that's why it hurt so much when... well, you know."

"Tooru--"

"I'm not trying to hold this over your head or anything, I'm over it. That's not the point. What I wanted to say is, well, thank you for always staying with me, even though I get on your nerves sometimes. You-- I couldn't have made it where I am today without you." Oikawa said slowly, so Iwaizumi heard every word. "We're partners, after all."

A sobering smile fell on Iwaizumi's face. He remained quiet, but his eyes drifted from Oikawa's face down to the white sheets they lay on.

"Hajime?"

"Hm?"

"You told me once that you never actually wanted to give up volleyball. And then... at practice today you said that you had other priorities to worry about... Why--"

"I came to this school because you got a scholarship here." Iwaizumi admitted bluntly.

Oikawa's eyes went wide, his lips parted slightly in awe.

"Is... that so hard to believe?" Iwaizumi asked when Oikawa's expression didn't change.

"But... what about--"

"We've always been together, it's not that simple for me to just get up and leave. It... really, it wasn't even a consideration when I was choosing a university after high school." Iwaizumi said quietly. "We've always been friends but... being together with you has a different kind of importance now. I wouldn't give you up for anything."

"That doesn't make it okay to sacrifice your happiness for me. You loved volleyball, and you could've made it far, you're..." Oikawa stopped as he watched the grin spread over Iwaizumi's face.

"Tooru, I'm the happiest I've ever been, being with you." He said. "I've never made a better decision than to give things a try with you. Following you here, it doesn't matter to me that I don't get to play competitively anymore. I'm here because I want to support your dream, that was always my intention anyway. You're an idiot, you know. You always need me to baby you. I couldn't leave you alone."

Oikawa chuckled. "Saying stuff like that is going to make me blush."

"Maybe I like it when you blush." Iwaizumi said as he nuzzled into Oikawa's cheek gently. "... You're _gorgeous,_ Oikawa Tooru." He whispered in Oikawa's ear, as though it were a secret meant only for him to hear.

And that was enough to send heat rushing rapidly to Oikawa's reddening face. He never used to get flustered like this. He supposed it was just another sign supporting the idea that perhaps Iwaizumi was the right one for him after all, that just perhaps, this could be his reality everyday for as long as they were together.

Iwaizumi began suckling on the skin beneath Oikawa's ear, along the cords of his neck and underneath his jaw with slow, languid kisses.

Oikawa struggled to retain a soft moan as he said. "You know... volleyball doesn't have to be over... for you..."

Iwaizumi's lips tickled the skin on his neck as he spoke. "You're still on about that?"

"Hajime..." Oikawa tried to get his attention, but the name came out with a small moan that only set to encourage the other boy on.  _"Hajime..."_

"What?" Iwaizumi said, pulling back his onslaught, his brows pinched a bit.

It took Oikawa a moment to himself to recover. "I mean it. Volleyball's always made you happy, I saw that it still does when we played earlier this evening. There's other things you can do besides being a player."

Iwaizumi seemed a little disinterested with their conversation, but he chose to amuse Oikawa in hopes of getting back to fooling around sooner. "Okay, like?"

"There's a job opening right now for my nephew's club team. It's not that far away from where we live anyways."

"Coaching?" Iwaizumi asked skeptically.

"I mean, it's just an idea."

"... I'll check it out tomorrow." Iwaizumi said, finding, surprisingly, despite the heat of the moment and his disinterest in Oikawa's initial proposal, he was seriously considering the offer. He smirked down at Oikawa. "But right now, I have other things on my mind than volleyball and middle school." He said as he carefully placed a slow kiss to Oikawa's lips, travelling down until he was worrying the skin around his adam's apple. Oikawa laughed a little at the tickle of his lips. And his next kiss came in the shape of a smile.

They fell asleep that night wrapped up in each other, tangled body and limb just as the emotions in their heart were to the other.

When Iwaizumi woke up it was to the gentle mid-morning rays of golden sunlight fluttering in from his bedroom window. The soft sound of sleep drifting from Oikawa's lax face. His lips were slightly parted. His long eyelashes dusting his high cheekbones. Most people would kill to look like this in their sleep, so peaceful and effortlessly handsome as Oikawa had always been.

"Beautiful." Iwaizumi whispered breathlessly to himself, filling in the gap in his thoughts as he studied Oikawa's face in reverie. He wanted to kiss him, to hold him close, but instead he just shamelessly observed for a while, allowing Oikawa to wake up gently on his own time.

It was the weekend, so Iwaizumi didn't need to worry about classes, and because of Oikawa's injury, he needn't worry about getting to any practices. Iwaizumi had studying to do and a presentation to prepare for, but instead he opted to just enjoy this lazy morning while it lasted.

He got up to make coffee and change his clothes, pleased to find Oikawa still asleep as he placed the extra mug on the bedside table and shuffled back into bed with his own. His shift in weight on the mattress caused Oikawa to stir beside him.

"Iwa...?"

Iwaizumi smiled a little. "Took you long enough."

Oikawa let out a sigh, eyes still closed. "Good morning to you too."

Being careful not to spill his coffee, Iwaizumi leaned down and placed a kiss to Oikawa's temple.

"Mmm, again." He demanded.

Iwaizumi grunted in amusement and took a sip of his drink, ignoring Oikawa's request.

"Iwaaa..." Oikawa whined, his eyes blearily opening up at Iwaizumi.

"Hajime."

Oikawa blinked. "Oh that's right..."

Oikawa stretched out like a cat, full body, making a high pitched groaning sound before falling into a state of utter relaxation once more. He looked up at Iwaizumi, studying him. And Iwaizumi was doing the same down at him.

"Is that coffee?" Oikawa asked.

"Yeah, here." The second mug was handed over as Oikawa sat up in bed to drink greedily.

"Aw, look at you playing housewife, so cute, Hajime." Oikawa cooed over the rim of his cup. Iwaizumi's eye twitched in immediate irritation. No wonder Iwaizumi had been so entranced by Oikawa's sleeping face before, the idiot had been so oddly tranquil and so uncharacteristically peaceful. But this Oikawa, the one that got on his nerves and teased him and was just so god damn _cute_ that it made him want to snap was the Oikawa Iwaizumi had signed up for.

"Just because I love you doesn't mean I won't punch you, Tooru."

"I think that's called domestic abuse."

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. But Oikawa knew those words were just empty threats, just as they had been the more they got older. And his theory was proved by the gentleness used as Iwaizumi plucked a stray fluff from Oikawa's hair. The way his eyes lingered and then looked away almost resembling whatever Iwaizumi's equivalent of shyness was. Oikawa drank his coffee then pulled himself from bed, gingerly placing his bad leg on the hardwood as he reached for his crutches. He pushed himself up with a short curse.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, just stiff and sore." Oikawa supplied as he hobbled from Iwaizumi's room and into his own.

Oikawa brushed his teeth, then changed as quickly as he could with only one leg to support his weight. Iwaizumi came to lean against the doorframe when Oikawa sat down on the bed, pulling out the ridiculously large medkit from underneath him. The braces on his ankle and knee were taken off, and like every morning he began taping his knee the way his physiotherapist had shown him, following the same procedure as if on autopilot. First was tape, then his old, white, soft knee brace, then the heavier one he'd received from the hospital. It was a tedious process, but otherwise his leg felt like jelly without the extra support. The gray boot he wore for his ankle was ugly though, so he usually just opted for the soft brace and thorough taping whenever he needed to go somewhere, despite knowing it would heal slower for him doing so. Beauty is pain, he supposed. But since he was at home today, and since his only company was Iwaizumi, he decided the gray boot was better, and did up the velcro straps for it with a flourish.

Iwaizumi watched him the whole time, he'd long since given up on trying to help Oikawa, since the idiot doggedly insisted he didn't need help with it, even saying so when Iwaizumi hadn't offered his help as of recently. But he still stayed with him, offering his assistance if ever Oikawa was to call for it.

After finishing, Oikawa stood up, placing his crutches beneath his arms. He noticed Iwaizumi had changed into running clothes, his shoes held in his hand and tucked under crossed arms.

"Going for a run without me?" Oikawa whined.

"You idiot. Upstairs or downstairs today?"

"Downstairs. Oh, could you bring my books down though, I have a lot of work to do."

"Sure."

It had become part of their routine, since with his injuries stairs were Oikawa's biggest enemy. Theoretically Oikawa could've done just fine on his own, but having Iwaizumi help him gave him a chance to admire his friend's muscles, and that seemed much more preferable than cracking his skull open from a fall in any case.

Iwaizumi got him settled in the kitchen, and with a quick peck to his lips and only mild bickering between the two of them, Iwaizumi was making his way out the door. He ran along his usual route, down to the park along the river, which was surprisingly vacant for a saturday afternoon. Running helped him think through his problems while volleyball had usually been the source of those problems, at least back in high school when a certain someone was the root cause for  _many._

And now he and Oikawa were... what? Boyfriends? He'd have to ask the bastard himself, he supposed. This was, after all, his first time doing any of this with another guy. And yet, while he ran, he was once again graced with the thought that the relationship they had, right now at least, felt so natural. Even though Oikawa was a guy, kissing him didn't turn him off. Neither did sleeping with him when they used to do that. He briefly wondered if Oikawa would be willing to place his trust in Iwaizumi and start sleeping together again, but that thought was breezed by without a second thought on it. It was Oikawa's decision to make, Iwaizumi was content with what he had, he couldn't risk hurting Oikawa again.

He was on his way home when he saw her, a petite form, honey blonde hair, large eyes that looked up as he slowed to a walk once he got within distance. Of course it was Mirai, his life had been going so well up until that moment. And of course, even when the park was nearly entirely vacant, she would still be here. His jaw was clenched, but surprisingly, he wasn't as angry to see her as he thought he might be when they inevitably ran into each other again, despite the circumstances they'd last left in. He didn't have that sort of energy to hate her anymore, she was a part of his past, not his future. He was over it.

"... Hajime?" Mirai said, her voice quiet, tentative.

"Iwaizumi." He corrected and her gaze dropped as he spoke. "Hey, do you... have time to talk?"

She studied him for a moment, before checking the time on her phone and letting out an overly dramatic sigh. "I suppose. I have work in half an hour."

"It shouldn't take long."

There was a bench a little down the path that they walked awkwardly to, Iwaizumi wiped the sweat from his face with the hem of his shirt.

"So... I take it you don't want me back after all?" She scoffed, her head turning away to look out at the river beside them.

"No, just like I told you the last time, we're done. I'm with someone else now, and I'm... actually really happy."

"Is she pretty?" She snapped. "Or is it a he now." Obviously she knew it was Oikawa, she'd said his name specifically the last time they fought, right before she stormed off and Oikawa walked in and that stupid,  _stupid_ misunderstanding broke both boy's hearts.

"That's not important." He replied, voice coming out calm and composed. They sat on the bench, Mirai looked off down the path, her arms crossed over her chest. Iwaizumi sighed. "Mirai... look. When we were together, that was during a really dark part of my life, I wasn't myself and I was denying what I wanted because I was afraid. I was tired, and I was lonely, and we had a toxic relationship because of it. I'm sorry if I hurt you, or if I drove you away because I wasn't entirely there all the time--"

"If you mean to say you liked partying over spending time with me then I don't need to hear it."

He sighed, letting her temper die down as well. "Look. Even if I wasn't good to you, what you did to me was wrong." He looked at her turned head, his voice firm. "Cheating on me? And then coming  _back_ to try and restart what we had? It was immature, and it hurt more than just me. You need to understand that."

For once, she actually remained silent. But her head was still turned away, childishly refusing to accept her mistakes. Iwaizumi sighed again, running his arm over his forehead to catch any condensation still collected there.

"I was an asshole, and I made more problems than I needed to by being stubborn. I can't replace the times I hurt you by ignoring your feelings, and we can't go on pretending like nothing happened either. But the fact remains that your actions led to us breaking up, and it led me to finding someone that helps me be better too, even if it was a long road getting there." Iwaizumi stood from his seat. "Please don't come back looking for a fuck buddy again." He said as he began walking away in the direction of home, and the direction of Oikawa.

He heard from behind him. "Haji--... Iwaizumi." Mirai's voice was quiet. And when he paused to look back at her, she was finally faced towards him for the first time, her eyes downcast looking at his shoes. She seemed to be struggling for words for a moment. And then, when she did speak, it was quiet, nearly blown away by the slight breeze that ruffled their hair. "I'm sorry."

Iwaizumi looked at her for only a moment, so she knows he heard her. Then he walked away without a second glance, picking up into a run shortly, and it was like the encounter never happened. Except it did, and even though it was hard to bring up painful memories, he was glad at least she now knew her actions had been nothing but childish. He'd spoken with no malicious intent, no need for revenge or anger when he'd learned to grow past that, with the help of someone new now.

What he didn't know, was that that was the last time he ever saw her, and in a way, he was grateful for it.

The door swung open and Oikawa jumped a little from where he sat at the kitchen table, startled by the noise. Iwaizumi walked in, making a beeline for the table (and a mildly confused Oikawa) to plant a sweaty kiss to his lips.

"Did you miss me that much?" Oikawa purred when they finally broke apart, smirking up at Iwaizumi.

"You're full of yourself." Iwaizumi called over his shoulder as he bounded upstairs for a shower and a change of clothes.

Oikawa watched him go, a smile curling the corners of his mouth as he looked blankly back down at his class notes. Like a sixth sense, he could tell something was on Iwaizumi's mind. But later that night, when they were together beneath the sheets again, Iwaizumi would come clean to him, he knew he would. After all, he knew Iwaizumi better than he knew himself.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience, and thank you for reading!  
> For those who are new and just read through 8 chapters of trainwreck im sorry, major updating will be done once the last chapter is posted, and like i said at the top, if you're still interested in reading the polished work a few months from now once ive basically rewritten everything then be my guest.
> 
>  
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this fluffier/slower chapter after the last, let me know what you liked/what you didn't like, it'll help me in direction for my updating in the future
> 
>  
> 
> volleyball terms for those who dont know:
> 
> * a 'fifty' refers to the placement of the ball along the net, in the fifth segment and usually about one foot from the top of the net. these are the most basic hits for middle blockers. in the manga/anime they call them quicks.  
> * 't-lining' is slang for when a hitter hits the attack line on the other side of the court. These hits are generally impossible to return because of the ball's speed and the short amount of time from when the ball's hit until it hits the floor. it's hard to dig or anticipate hits like this. i personally call it 'the instakill.'  
> * 'off' refers to a ball set further away from the net rather than tight to the net. usually shorter players like playing off the net because it gives them more area/options to work around a block rather than being stuffed. 'inside' refers to the distance the ball is hit from the antenna, with 'outside' being its counterpart, which is closer to the antenna. inside and outside shots allow the setter to move their hitter's around a block by tricking the blockers. but we're not gonna get into strategy today because thats tiring so...  
> * as you may have learned from the manga/anime, there's 'line' shots and 'cross' shots. inside sets can usually help with creating a better angle for power hitters to hit cross, while outside sets can usually help with a better angle for line shots. a [sharp cross](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J1pzRkbureo&ab_channel=PowerVolleyball) is an annoying ball to dig because of how a team's defence is generally set up.


End file.
